Dusky's Pad » Vicente Fernandez

Dusky — Sat, 17 Jul 2004 16:15:46 +0000

Translation:

I desire you head to toes. I like you for everything, and with all excesses. I swear I get goosebumps just picturing you and me together. In merely saying hello to you, I feel as if I’ve been hit by cupid’s arrow of love. Suddenly I have desires that I cannot control; desires that cause me to tremble; desires that cannot be made explicit, due to their naughty nature and the presence of those who surround us.

It’s too bad I’ve come too late; another man beat me to the key that opened your heart. You are the prohibited fruit I’m not to taste, and for that reason I’ll never have the chance to bring you into heaven itself. Were you mine, I’d be the sort of man who’d try the impossible holding the firm belief that it can be done. I’d give up anything and everything for someone like you, but alas, it’s not to be…

Lástima Que Seas Ajena (Vicente Fernández)
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(1)
Me gustas completita
tengo que confesarlo.
Nomás al saludarte
me da el mal del amor.

(2)
Me brotan los deseos,
me tiembla todo el cuerpo
y lo que estoy pensando
no se puede decir.

(3)
Me gustas para todo
con todos los excesos.
Nomás de imaginarme
se me enchina la piel.

(4)
Que imágenes tan bellas
me cruzan por la mente
y me estorba la gente
verdad de Dios que sí.

(5)
Lástima que seas ajena
y que no pueda darte
lo mejor que tengo.

(6)
Lástima que llego tarde
y no tengo llave
para abrir tu cuerpo.

(7)
Lástima que seas ajena
el fruto prohibido
que jamás comí.

(8)
Lástima que no te tenga
porque al mismo cielo
yo te haría subir.

(9)
Por alguien como tú
por Dios que dejo todo.
Pareces un lucero
nomás al sonreir.

(10)
Que imágenes tan bellas
me cruzan por la mente
y estorban los presentes
verdad de Dios que sí.

(5), (6), (7), (8), (5), (6), (7), (8)

Dusky — Thu, 10 Jun 2004 07:00:01 +0000

Translation:

As my friends and I spoke of the evildoings of women, we drank bottle after bottle of alcohol. I was asked to sing, so I sang about women’s betrayal of men.

An older man approached me. He said to me, “I beg you to cease to speak that way of women while in my presence.” I responded, “We’re just talking about how we’ve been done wrong by them. Anybody who does not share our views must have never been betrayed by one.”

In response to that he said…

“I’m one of those men who have paid a high-price for loving a woman. I’ve always been abandoned by them with tears in my eyes and wounds in my heart. However, I would never scold them for it. You see, suffering is a result of loving, and love them we must. Women are God’s gift to men. In fact, the most cherished moments in my life have been spent next to a woman. It’s in our nature to love those divine beings, even if we are to spend the rest of our lives drinking and wishing we hadn’t…”

Mujeres Divinas (Vicente Fernández)

Hablando de mujeres y traiciones
se fueron consumiendo las botellas
Pidieron que cantará mis canciones
y yo canté unas dos en contra de ellas

De pronto que se acerca un caballero
Su pelo ya pintaba algunas canas
Me dijo, “Le suplico compañero
que no hable en mi presencia de las damas”

Le dije que nosotros simplemente
hablamos de lo mal que nos pagaron;
que si alguien opinaba diferente
sería porque jamás lo traicionaron
que si alguien opinaba diferente
sería porque jamas lo traicionaron

Me dijó: Yo soy uno de los seres
que más ha soportado los fracasos
y siempre me dejaron las mujeres
llorando y con el alma hecha pedazos

Mas nunca les reprocho mis heridas
se tiene que sufrir, cuando se ama
Las horas mas hermosas de mi vida
las he pasado a lado de una dama

Pudiéramos morir en las cantinas
y nunca lograríamos olvidarlas
Mujeres o mujeres tan divinas
no queda otro camino que adorarlas
Mujeres o mujeres tan divinas
no queda otro camino que adorarlas

Dusky — Mon, 15 Dec 2003 07:00:01 +0000

I recall last hearing her girlish voice on the evening of the 15th day of December. When the phones were hanged that Sunday, I knew I’d need all the strength I could reunite. I laid down in my bed for a moment, wondering if that would in fact be the last time we’d ever talk. It needed to be the last time. That I knew, but I wasn’t sure we could do it. At the same time I felt that hearing that voice I loved would not do me any good. It’d only revive old wounds. Wounds that hadn’t yet healed. I had become the man who loved a girl who would not be his ever again. Something needed to be done, and was. That Sunday of a year ago remains to this day the last time she and I ever spoke.

Translation:

In what is my way of saying goodbye to you, I serve myself another glass and I drink it wishing you well. This is the last glass, and then we must take our different paths. This last glass, perhaps sourer than any other I’ve ever drank, is for the sake of our now defunct endearment. One that will never be again. Our thing was so significant, and it had to come to its end. It’s as natural as life and death. This last glass is our goodbye, and may we fare well going our separate ways.

Una Copa Más (Vicente Fernandez)
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(1)
Una copa más
te brindo al despedirme
Una copa más
que nos hará olvidar

(2)
Una copa más
tal vez un poco amarga
por nuestro gran cariño
que nunca volverá
una copa más

(3)
Es la ley de la vida
el nacer y morir
Nuestro amor fue tan grande
y dejo de existir

(2)

(3)

(2)

Dusky — Sat, 20 Sep 2003 03:54:29 +0000

A cube of ice the size of a pillow is what remained on the edge of the road, near the corner of the street. Three hours before it had been riding on a wooden cart, and its owner would scrape it with a metal object that collected bits of ice. These bits of ice would be placed on a cup, covered with a sweet liquid, and sold for a dollar. The ice belonged to an man who sold raspados.

Then the police showed up. Behind the police was a trash-collecting truck. It’s where the man’s tools-of-the-trade were thrown. He passed by Jefferson when the police was gone. His hat covered his head, but the hat did nothing to hide his shame. People stared.

You want to know where Jefferson is? Hop on a helicopter and have it hover over the San Fernando Valley. If you do it at about 7:20am, look for a woman and her 10 year old daughter standing at a corner, next to a supermarket cart. People surround them. They are selling tamales. If you do it in the afternoon, look for the same woman and her child, again, standing next to a cart. This time they are selling paletas (ice cream), but now they face competition; there are other five or six paleteros (ice cream vendors). One of them is the man who had his cart confiscated, and his ice thrown to the curb.

The man will not be seen on Monday. His competitors will be wise not to show up either. But step outside of Jefferson on Wednesday or Thursday, and have yourself a cold, tasty, refreshing paleta… sold to you by the same man who lost his cart today. Heh.

This reminds me of a song…

Translation:

I swam across the Rio Grande, without making much of a fuss. The immigration threw me back out, and I landed in Nogales. I entered USA again, this time through another point. Again I was thrown out, this time to Juarez.

From there I headed to Tamaulipas, and I sneaked through Laredo. I disguised myself as a whiteboy, even dyed my hair. But since I didn’t speak English, back to Mexico I was sent. I went back in through Mexicali and San Luis Rio Colorado.

I’ve made it through all checking points, hidden of course. I’ve never backed down. I’ve come and gone as I’ve pleased. I know all the paths that lead to USA, roads and rivers alike. From Tijuana to Reynosa. From Matamoros to Juarez. From Piedras Negras to El Paso. And from Agua Prieta to Nogales.

The immigration caught me 300 times, I’d say. But I was never tamed. The immigration kissed my ass. The beatings I took from its agents were later avenged… when I dealt with their countrymen.

Los Mandados (Vicente Fernandez)

Cruce el Rio Grande nadando
Sin importarme dos reales
Me echo la migra pa’ fuera
Y fui a caer a Nogales
Entre por otra frontera
Y que me avientan pa’ Juarez

De alli me fui a Tamaulipas
Y me cole por Laredo
Me disfrase de gabacho
Y me pinte el pelo guero
Y como no hablaba ingles
Que me retachan de nuevo

La migra a mi me agarro
Tres cientas veces digamos
Pero jamas me domo
A mi me hizo los mandados
Los golpes que a mi me dio
Se los cobre a sus paisanos

Por Mexicali yo entre
Y San Luis Rio Colorado
Todas las lineas cruce
De contrabando y mojado
Pero jamas me raje
Iba y venia al otro lado
Conosco todas las lineas
Caminos, rios y canales
Desde Tijuana a Reynosa
De Matamoros a Juarez
De piedras negras al El Paso
Y de Agua Prieta a Nogales

La migra a mi me agarro
Tres cientas veses digamos
Pero jamas me domo
A mi me hizo los mandados
Los golpes que a mi me dio
Se los cobre a sus paisanos