Els obercocs i les petites collidores
Language: Catalan (Català)
Available translation(s): ENG
Diu Iris a Myrtila:
–Oh, amiga, jo no sé!...
Tants obercocs hi deixes
damunt l’obercoquer?
–Oh, Iris, prou m’agrada
menjar-ne a torbellins
i sentir l’or alegre
com raja boca endins.
Mes arriba el mal temps
i prop del flam furient,
jo sento en la teulada
dansar teules i vent,
i em plau quan nostra mare,
veient-nos entristits
i com freguem els nassos
i com bufem els dits,
ens dugui riolera,
quan cau la neu a flocs,
un pot amb confitures
de préssecs o obercocs.
Please note: this text, provided here for educational and research use, is in the public domain in Canada, but it may still be copyright in other legal jurisdictions. The LiederNet Archive makes no guarantee that the above text is public domain in your country. Please consult your country's copyright statutes or a qualified IP attorney to verify whether a certain text is in the public domain in your country or if downloading or distributing a copy constitutes fair use. The LiederNet Archive assumes no legal responsibility or liability for the copyright compliance of third parties.
Authorship:
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (Salvador Pila) , "The apricots and the petty pickers", copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [
Administrator]
This text was added to the website: 2014-03-12
Line count: 20
Word count: 84
The apricots and the petty pickers
Language: English  after the Catalan (Català)
Iris says to Myrtila:
-- Oh, friend, I don’t know!...
Why you leave so many apricots
on the apricot tree?
-- Oh, Iris, sure I like
to eat lots of them
and feel their fleshy gold
pouring inside my mouth.
But the bad weather is coming
and, by the raging flame,
I hear on the roof
the rattle of tiles and the wind,
and I like, when our mother,
seeing our sad faces,
and how we wipe our noses
and blow our fingers,
that she cheerfully brings,
when snowflakes fall,
a jar of peach
or apricot preserve.
Authorship:
- Translation from Catalan (Català) to English copyright © 2014 by Salvador Pila, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you may ask the copyright-holder(s) directly or ask us; we are authorized to grant permission on their behalf. Please provide the translator's name when contacting us.
Contact: licenses@email.lieder.example.net
Based on:
This text was added to the website: 2014-03-12
Line count: 20
Word count: 95