aargh
been busy. Tht's why I'm not much around.
I've been kind of "promoted" at work... and I quite like what I'm doing now. It will probably only last a couple of days, like avrything else... but it is making the week a little less boring, though it gives me less time to draw. On top of that, everybody at work is like: "wow, are you doing that lot of work?" It is not that lot! Isn't it? It makes me wonder if I'm really doing it correctly (working faster sometimes means doing it wrong) or if I'm doing it too correctly, giving evidence that everybody is just taking it easy... so tomorrow I will talk to my co-workers and see what of the two really is. There's a posibility of it being just that I'm good and quick in what I'm doing... but.. nah! Something isn't right there... ^_~
And, in other news... I went to see my nieces, Ona and Erin, and they are the most beautiful thing in this world, and part of the others...
Ona
ERin
Mediterràneo
Quizá porque mi niñez
sigue jugando en tu playa
y escondido tras las cañas
duerme mi primer amor,
llevo tu luz y tu olor
por dondequiera que vaya,
y amontonado en tu arena
tengo amor, juegos y penas.
Yo, que en la piel tengo el sabor
amargo del llanto enterno
que han vertido en ti cien pueblos
de Algeciras a Estambul
para que pintes de azul
sus largas noches de invierno.
A fuerza de desventuras,
tu alma es profunda y oscura.
A tus atardeceres rojos
se acostubraron mis ojos
como el recodo al camino...
Soy cantor, soy embustero,
me gusta el juego y el vino,
Tengo alma de marinero...
Qué le voy a hacer, si yo
nací en el Mediterráneo.
Y te acercas, y te vas
después de besar mi aldea.
Jugando con la marea
te vas, pensando en volver.
Eres como una mujer
perfumadita de brea
que se añora y se quiere
que se conoce y se teme.
Ay, si un día para mi mal
viene a buscarme la parca.
Empujad al mar mi barca
con un levante otoñal
y dejad que el temporal
desguace sus alas blancas.
Y a mi enterradme sin duelo
entre la playa y el cielo...
En la ladera de un monte,
más alto que el horizonte.
Quiero tener buena vista.
Mi cuerpo será camino,
le daré verde a los pinos
y amarillo a la genista...
Cerca del mar. Porque yo
nací en el Mediterráneo.
Lame Traslation:
"Perhaps because my childhood
still plays in your beach,
and hidden behind the reed
sleeps my fisrt love,
I wear your light and scent
wherever I go.
And piled up in the sand
I have love games and sorrows...
I have in my very skin the bitter taste
of the eternal crying,
poured by a hundred countries,
from Algeciras to Istambul,
so you can paint in blue
their long winter nights...
By dint of misfortune
your soul is deep and dark.
To your red dusk
my eyes got used
as the bend to the path...
I'm a singer, I'm a lier,
I like gambling and wine,
I have the soul of a sailor.
What can I do if I
was born by the Mediterránean?
And you come by and go
after kissing my hometown.
Playing with the tide,
you leave just to come back,
you are just a woman
all perfumed in tar.
The kind you miss and love,
the kind you knwo and fear.
And if one day by my bad luck
death comes looking for me,
push my boat to the sea,
to an autumnal east wind,
and let the storm
tear her white wings...
and bury me with no mourning,
between the beach and the sky
In the slope of the hill
higher than the horizon,
I want to have a good sight.
My body would become path,
I will give green to the pines
and yellow to the greenweed.
By the sea because I
was born by the Mediterranean."
I've been kind of "promoted" at work... and I quite like what I'm doing now. It will probably only last a couple of days, like avrything else... but it is making the week a little less boring, though it gives me less time to draw. On top of that, everybody at work is like: "wow, are you doing that lot of work?" It is not that lot! Isn't it? It makes me wonder if I'm really doing it correctly (working faster sometimes means doing it wrong) or if I'm doing it too correctly, giving evidence that everybody is just taking it easy... so tomorrow I will talk to my co-workers and see what of the two really is. There's a posibility of it being just that I'm good and quick in what I'm doing... but.. nah! Something isn't right there... ^_~
And, in other news... I went to see my nieces, Ona and Erin, and they are the most beautiful thing in this world, and part of the others...
Ona
ERin
Mediterràneo
Quizá porque mi niñez
sigue jugando en tu playa
y escondido tras las cañas
duerme mi primer amor,
llevo tu luz y tu olor
por dondequiera que vaya,
y amontonado en tu arena
tengo amor, juegos y penas.
Yo, que en la piel tengo el sabor
amargo del llanto enterno
que han vertido en ti cien pueblos
de Algeciras a Estambul
para que pintes de azul
sus largas noches de invierno.
A fuerza de desventuras,
tu alma es profunda y oscura.
A tus atardeceres rojos
se acostubraron mis ojos
como el recodo al camino...
Soy cantor, soy embustero,
me gusta el juego y el vino,
Tengo alma de marinero...
Qué le voy a hacer, si yo
nací en el Mediterráneo.
Y te acercas, y te vas
después de besar mi aldea.
Jugando con la marea
te vas, pensando en volver.
Eres como una mujer
perfumadita de brea
que se añora y se quiere
que se conoce y se teme.
Ay, si un día para mi mal
viene a buscarme la parca.
Empujad al mar mi barca
con un levante otoñal
y dejad que el temporal
desguace sus alas blancas.
Y a mi enterradme sin duelo
entre la playa y el cielo...
En la ladera de un monte,
más alto que el horizonte.
Quiero tener buena vista.
Mi cuerpo será camino,
le daré verde a los pinos
y amarillo a la genista...
Cerca del mar. Porque yo
nací en el Mediterráneo.
Lame Traslation:
"Perhaps because my childhood
still plays in your beach,
and hidden behind the reed
sleeps my fisrt love,
I wear your light and scent
wherever I go.
And piled up in the sand
I have love games and sorrows...
I have in my very skin the bitter taste
of the eternal crying,
poured by a hundred countries,
from Algeciras to Istambul,
so you can paint in blue
their long winter nights...
By dint of misfortune
your soul is deep and dark.
To your red dusk
my eyes got used
as the bend to the path...
I'm a singer, I'm a lier,
I like gambling and wine,
I have the soul of a sailor.
What can I do if I
was born by the Mediterránean?
And you come by and go
after kissing my hometown.
Playing with the tide,
you leave just to come back,
you are just a woman
all perfumed in tar.
The kind you miss and love,
the kind you knwo and fear.
And if one day by my bad luck
death comes looking for me,
push my boat to the sea,
to an autumnal east wind,
and let the storm
tear her white wings...
and bury me with no mourning,
between the beach and the sky
In the slope of the hill
higher than the horizon,
I want to have a good sight.
My body would become path,
I will give green to the pines
and yellow to the greenweed.
By the sea because I
was born by the Mediterranean."