Granada (song): translation "Granada" is a popular Mexican song written by composer Agustín Lara, which has become a standard. Lettris is a curious tetris-clone game where all the bricks have the same square shape but different content.
Original Lyrics .
What fascinates is the sound. Rising from the city are pine-trees with bowed heads. In the blue misted lake of the Vega the farm dogs bark…. In the distance there are confusions of mist and heliotrope among the poplar groves, and now and then, in the dawn freshness, is heard a distant bleating in the key of F. Along the valley of the Darro, anointed with blue and dark-green, fly pigeons from the countryside, whiter or darker, according to whether they come to rest beneath the poplars or beneath masses of yellow flowers. Beautiful, generous and kind…With all my devotion, From the squared towers of the Alhambra the Albaizin is seen, with its patios, with its ancient galleries through which the nuns pass. There are still spirited patches of snow that resist the sun’s fire. Translated by A. S. Kline © Copyright 2007, All Rights Reserved. The sound of the Darro is the harmony of the countryside. Yale Center for British Art. Zaac and Jerry will kick it, you know? Dutch. from the bullfighting afternoons, Women, who retain the spell of Moorish eyes. Give contextual explanation and translation from your sites ! The song was much favoured by theatre organists in the UK, because it provided an opportunity for showing off the organ's tuned [harp, glockenspiel, etc.]
And of course it remains in the concert repertoire. Lyrics and TranslationBumbum Granada Mc's Zaac & Jerry.
On the slopes of the Sierra Nevada there are delicious inflections of sound…There are places in which, from the solid slopes, flows the sound of a bitter-sweet rural fragrance. The English word games are: Subject to certain exceptions, this work may be freely reproduced stored, and transmitted, electronically or otherwise, for any non-commercial purpose. Swedish. The flickering lamps in the alleyways of the Albaizín tremble with gold among the blackness of the cypresses…the Vela peals out its historic song…On the towers, frightened little lights shine, illuminating the bell-ringers…. The infinitely crystalline transparencies reveal themselves in dim splendor. The sun at its setting appears among clouds…and the Vega is like an immense flower which suddenly opens its vast corolla showing all its wondrous colours. - including Lament for Ignacio Sánchez Mejías. From a dark doorway, with enormous cracks in its wood, and amidst green moist incense, appears a terrifying figure clothed in rags, and with eyes yellow with bile…in the background is an ancient patio….a patio in which eunuchs slumber perhaps in the moonlight, a patio paved with moss, with Arabic shadows on the walls, and a large cistern (aljibe) frighteningly deep…From its worm-eaten balustrades lean pots of withered geraniums, and to its blackened columns cling consumptive creepers…Deeper in there is a midden, and on one of its walls a terrifying Christ with ballerinas’ skirts, decorated with flowers made of rags…A suffocating sickness of blowflies and a thousand wasps buzzes threateningly. Streets with monasteries of perpetual cloister, white, artless, with their snub bell-towers, their dusty amaranths, towering, brushing against the roof-eaves…with their doves and swallows’ nests. Shrines, gratings, large houses with an uninhabited air, frightful cisterns whose water holds the tragic mystery of an intimate drama, rambling portals where pillars groan among the shadows, hollows full of rubble below the blocks of the city wall, solitary streets that nobody traverses, and in which a door can gradually be made out…and the door is closed, abandoned grottoes, slopes of red earth in which live the petrified octopi of the agaves. It has been recorded dozens if not hundreds of times. Streets in which ancient races of the spirit live, in rooms with vast armchairs, dim paintings, and artless urns with versions of the boy Jesus among wreathes, garlands, and arches of brightly coloured flowers, people who put out lanterns of obsolete form when the Viaticum passes by, and who own silks and shawls of ancient ancestry. GRANADA English Translation: Granada, land off my dreams my song becomes a gypsy song When I sing for you. The sun vanishes and on the mountain infinite cascades of musical colours are born which flow down like velvet over the city and the hills, and forge a single musical colour from sonorous waves…Everything dreams of melody, of ancient sadness, of weeping. The foreground of the countryside is strongly delineated. Here and there, among the red and white tones of the district, the rough outlines and green darkness of prickly pears appear…Around the tall towers of the churches appear the campaniles of the monasteries their cloistered bells gleaming behind the amaranths, singing in the divine dawn of Granada, echoing the deep honeyed tone of the bell of the Torre de la Vela. Get XML access to reach the best products. The rivers appear as immense channels made in the earth, in which the sky is reflected below. Norwegian. © Copyright 2000-2020 A. S. Kline, All Rights Reserved. English thesaurus is mainly derived from The Integral Dictionary (TID). There was no one about in the melancholy and deathly silent street. Dark caverns of the nomadic and oriental race.
Please note that Federico García Lorca's original, Spanish works may not be in the public domain in all jurisdictions, notably the United States of America. Привет! German. - His lecture Las nanas infantiles - 1928. french (4 %) Choose translation. The monster slid away like an upright lizard and with a harsh grimace unsure whether it was or happy or aggrieved to be alive…occasionally it coughed, like a dog howling in a basement, and kept shedding the smell of stale lavender and tobacco. The sad winter days convert it into a field of dreams. The shadows have cloaked the Alhambra’s blaze…the Vega is flat and silent. In these districts there is a vast external uproar, enveloped by the dark sounds thrown out by the bells of the city. An Italian version was written in 1954 by Enzo Luigi Poletto. There is something mysterious that attracts and fascinates in the sight of the Albaizín from this fortress and palace atmidnight….Yet the panorama, with so splendid and strange a presence, and holding those potent voices of romanticism, is not that which fascinates. Where the original works are not in the public domain, any required permissions should also be sought from the representatives of the Lorca estate, Casanovas & Lynch Agencia Literaria . Elsewhere they are swirling slopes, impossible of descent, full of large boulders, walls eaten away by time, in which women sit, tragic idiots who stare provocatively…. At these crossroads lives an Albaizín frightened and fantastical, that of barking dogs and grieving guitars, that of dark nights among streets of white walls, a tragic superstitious Albaizín, of witches, fortune-tellers and necromancers, of strange gipsy rites, of cabalistic signs and amulets, of souls in pain, of pregnant women, an Albaizín of aged prostitutes who know the evil eye, of seducers, and bloody curses, a passionate Albaizín…. They lean together, their walls in collision, with original and diabolic expressions.