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 Culture & Traditions

Penélope Letra-Lyrics Joan Manuel Serrat y Música-Music by Augusto Algueró

 

Penélope,
con su bolso de piel marrón,
y sus zapatos de tacón
y su vestido de domingo.Penélope,
se sienta en un banco en el andén
y espera a que llegue el primer tren
meneando el abanico.Dicen en el pueblo
que un caminante paró
su reloj
una tarde de primavera .Adiós amor mío
no me llores volveré
antes que, de los sauces caigan las hojas
Piensa en mi
volveré, por ti.
Pobre infeliz,
se paró tu reloj
infantil
una tarde plomiza de abril
cuando se fue tu amante
Se marchitó
en tu huerto hasta la última flor
no hay un sauce en la calle mayor
para, PenélopePenélope,
triste es a fuerza de
esperar
sus ojos parecen brillar
sí un tren silva a
lo lejos.Penélope,
uno tras otro los
ve pasar
mira sus caras
les oye hablar,
para ella son muñecos.Dicen en el pueblo
que el caminante volvió
la encontró, en su banco de pino verde…

La llamó, Penélope
mi amante fiel,
mi paz
deja ya de tejer sueños en tu mente
mírame, soy tu amor, regresé….

Le sonrió
con los ojos llenitos de ayer
no era así su cara
ni su piel
Tu no eres
quien yo espero

Y se quedó
con su bolso de piel marrón
y sus zapatitos de tacón
sentada en la estación

  Penélope …

Penelope,
with her brown purse
and high heel shoes
and her Sunday dress.Penelope
sits on a bench on the platform
and waits for the first train to arrive
fanning herself.The people in town say
that a traveler stopped
her watch
on a spring afternoon.Good bye my love
don’t cry I’ll return
before the willows shed
their leaves
Think of me
I’ll return and get you
Poor soul,
your childhood watch was stopped
on a gray April afternoon
when your beloved left.
All the flowers on your garden withered…there is not a willow on the major street standing
for Penelope.
Penelope,
unhappy by force of waiting
her eyes seem to glimmer
if she hears a train whistling by.
Penelope
one by one she sees them pass by
she watches their faces
and hears them talk,
to her they are just dolls.
They say in town
that the traveler came back
and found her, on her green pine bench…He called out, Penelope
my faithful love,
my peace
stop knitting dreams in your
mind
look at me, I’m your love,
I came back….She smiled at him
through eyes full of yesterday
his face and skin were not the same
You’re not the one I’m waiting for…She stayed there
with her brown purse
her high heel shoes
sitting in the train station

Penelope….

Joan Manuel Serrat was born in Barcelona, Spain, in 1943, but in Mexico we consider him one of our own.

 

 

 

 

 

In 1975, while he was on a tour in Mexico, he publicly condemned the executions by firing squad that occurred during the period known as “franquismo” (General Francisco Franco’s dictatorship), adhering to the position held by the President of Mexico,Luis Echeverría Álvarez, who had broken off diplomatic relations with Spain. Serrat was forced to remain outside of Spain for 11 months, as an exile of Franco’s regime. He spent a considerable part of this time in Mexico.

His exile ended in 1976, when King Juan Carlos granted amnesty. Joan Manuel Serrat then returned to his home city of Barcelona.

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