Elzevira

Puncha, puncha la rosa huele
que el amor muncho duele.
Tu no nacites para mi:
presto alexate de mi.

Acodrate d'aquella hora
que yo te bezava la boca.
Aquella hora ya paso,
dolor quedo al coracon.

Montanas altas y mares hondas,
llevame onde 'l mi querido
llevame onde 'l mi amor,
el que me de consolacion.

Si otra vez me queres ver,
sale afuera te havlare.
Echa los ojos a la mar:
alli me puedes encontrar.


Pungent, pungent is the
rose's perfume
when love suffers great sorrow.
You were not born for me:
quickly, get away from me!

Do you remember the time
when I used to kiss your mouth?
That time has passed,
sorrow remains in my heart.

High mountains and deep seas,
lead me to my darling;
lead me to my beloved
who would console me.

If you wish to see me once more,
come outside to speak!
Cast your eyes at the sea:
There you will be able to find me.

Sefardisch liefdeslied

Prendi la paletta e ravviva il fuoco
vai a casa del tuo amore
passa due ore felici
se tua madre se ne accorge di questo gioco
dille che il tuo viso è rosso per il calore
Dille quel che vuoi la donna fa quello che vuole
Brilla il sole quando è bel tempo
riluce il tuo petto, donna galante
in petto conservi due pugnali d'argento
e chi li tocca, bella, diviene santo
E li tocco io che son l'amante
in Paradiso andremo certamente
Dille quel che vuoi la donna fa quello che vuole

----

Prends la pelle et ravive le feu,
va chez ton amoureux
passe deux heures dans les jeux.
Si ta mère se fâche pour ton jeu,
dis-lui que ton visage est rouge à cause du feu.
Dis-lui ce que tu veux, toute femme fait ce qu'elle veut
Le soleil brille lorsqu'il fait beau,
tes seins resplendissent, femme galante,
ta poitrine abrite deux poignards en argent.
Celui qui les touche, ma belle, devient un saint.
Et je les touche, moi, qui suis l'amant.
Nous irons sans doute au Paradis.
Dis-lui ce que tu veux, toute femme fait ce qu'elle veut

----

Take the shovel and rekindle the fire,
Go to your loved one
And spend two hours in sport.
If your mother shows anger at your sporting,
Tell her your face is red from the fire.
Say what you like to her, a woman does as she pleases!
The sun shines when the weather is fine,
Your breasts are radiant, gentle lady,
Your bosom conceals two silver daggers.
He who touches them, my beauty, becomes a saint.
And I touch them, I who am the lover.
No doubt we shall go to Paradise.
Say what you like to her, a woman does as she pleases!

Anonimo

La Carpinese, Marco Beasley e Pino de Vittori e l'Arpeggiata.

Il est quelqu'un sur Terre,
Va, mon rouet ! (bis - les deux vers)
Docile, tourne, va ton train,
Et dis, tout bas, ton doux refrain.
Il est quelqu'un sur Terre
Vers qui mes rêves vont.

Il est dans la vallée,
Va, mon rouet ! (bis - les deux vers)
Docile, tourne, va ton train,
Et dis, tout bas, ton doux refrain.
Il est dans la vallée
Un moulin près du pont.

L'amour y moud sa graine,
Va, mon rouet ! (bis - les deux vers)
Docile, tourne, va ton train,
Et dis, tout bas, ton doux refrain.
L'amour y moud sa graine
Tant que le jour est long.

La nuit vers les étoiles,
Va, mon rouet ! (bis - les deux vers)
Docile, tourne, va ton train,
Et dis, tout bas, ton doux refrain.
La nuit vers les étoiles
Soupire sa chanson.

La rou' s'y est brisée,
Va, mon rouet ! (bis - les deux vers)
Docile, tourne, va ton train,
Et dis, tout bas, ton doux refrain.
La rou' s'y est brisée
Finie est la chanson.

English translation

There is someone in the world,
Turn, little wheel!
Gently turn, go your way,
and whisper your sweet refrain,
There is someone in the world
To whom my dreams incline.

There is in the valley,
Turn, little wheel!
Gently turn, go your way,
and whisper your sweet refrain,
There is in the valley,
A windmill by the bridge.

Love grinds the barley there,
Turn, little wheel!
Gently turn, go your way,
and whisper your sweet refrain,
Love grinds the barley there,
For as long as is the day.

Night turns towards the stars,
Turn, little wheel!
Gently turn, go your way,
and whisper your sweet refrain,
Night turns towards the stars,
And sings her song.

The wheel there is broken.
Turn, little wheel!
Gently turn, go your way,
and whisper your sweet refrain,
The wheel there is broken.
The song is at an end.

Anonymus

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