Translation - Real People's Music

CD Notes & Translations

Semillas de inmensidad/Seeds of immensity

“por las coplas que mordemos - semillas de inmensidad”

“And these songs that we eat – seeds of immensity” –Atahualpa Yupanqui

1) Chacarera Santiagueña 4:05

Argentina. Trad. Chacarera.
Lyrics:Chango Farías Gómez
Guitar, clarinet, violin & voices.

A trad. Chacarera, our version starts in space, quickly earths, gets rockin’ with hints of klezmer, has a mellow interlude of violin clarinet conversation, then rocks out. Argentine Chacarera is a passionate song & dance form from the countryside. According to legend originating in the remote province of Santiago del Estero, now played in all Argentina & beyond. This is dedicated to Chango Farías Gómez, the great musician, singer, interpreter and arranger who passed in Aug. 2011 & wrote these lyrics.

Arriba de unos árboles cantaban unos pájaros. Lunes Martes y Miércoles Jueves, Viernes y Sábado.	Up there in the trees Some birds were singing Mondays, Tuesdays and Wednesdays Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays
Una vez que te quisí y tu mamá lo supio. Fue porque yo le dijí, que te casaras con yo.	Once I said I wanted you and your mother knew about it it was because I told her that I would marry you
Yo no ando porque te quiero. Ni ando para que me quieras. Ando por andar de vicio Ando por andar nomás.	I’m walking not because I want you Nor so you love me I go on and on because it’s my addiction I do it for the pleasure of it
Canten canten compañeros. De que me andan recelando? Yo no soy mas que apariencia, sombra que anda caminando.	Sing, sing my friends Don’t get jealous of me I’m just pure image Shadow that likes to walk
Cuando llega el carnaval, no almuerzo ni como nada, me mantengo con la copla, me duermo con la tonada.	When the carnival arrives I eat nothing I sustain myself from the copla I fall asleep with the Tonada (song)
Ay hojita de algarrobo molidita en el mortero. Se me sube a la cabeza como si fuera sombrero.	Ay, the algarrobo leaf Ground in the mill goes up to my head Like it was a hat
Canten,canten compañeros De que me andan recelando? Yo no soy mas que apariencia sombra que anda caminando.	Sing, sing my friends Don’t get jealous of me I’m just pure image Shadow that likes to walk

2) El Jarabe Loco 6:50

Mexico. Trad. Veracruz Son Jarocho.
Harp, jarana jarocha, bombo & voices.

A joyful upbeat dance song in 6/8.

Para cantar el jarabe, para eso me pinto yo. Para rezar el rosario, mi hermano el que se murió. Ése sí era santulario, no pícaro como yo.	To sing the jarabe, that’s what I’m ready for My brother who passed was good for saying the Rosary He really was saintly Not mischievous like me
Este es el jarabe loco que compuso Lucifer Que compuso Lucifer Este es el jarabe loco que compuso Lucifer	This is the crazy Jarabe that Lucifer wrote that Lucifer wrote. This is the crazy Jarabe That Lucifer wrote.
Cogollo de lima, rama de laurel Cómo quieres china que te vaya a ver Si salgo de guardia, voy para el cuartel Mis zapatos blancos los voy a vender Porque ya no tengo ni para comer Si son los de encima son de cuero viejo Yo por donde quiera se me ve el pellejo Si salgo a bailar hago mucho ruido Ya parezco río de esos muy crecidos.	Harvest of limes branch of laurel How do you want me to come see you? If I have to go on guard I’m going to the barracks With my white chaps which I’m going to sell because I don’t have enough money Not even for food If they’re the bargain ones they’re made of old leather Every way you look at me you see old skin. If I go dancing I make a lot of noise I am noisy like a very fierce river
Este es el jarabe loco Que compuse una man~ana Que compuse una man~ana Este es el jarabe loco Que compuse una man~ana	This is the crazy dance that resurrects the dead They come out of their graves shaking their little heads
Lo compuse en Veracruz Y ya se toca en la Habana Y ya se toca en la Habana Desde que esta Castro Ruz Lo compuse en Veracruz Este es el jarabe loco que a los muertos resucita Salen de la sepultura meneando la cabecita Te quise rendido, te adoré constante Vuelen pajarillos, vuelen vigilantes Si la piedra es dura tú eres un diamante, Donde no ha podido	This is the crazy jarabe that I composed one morning This is the crazy jarabe. I composed it in Veracruz and it is played already in La Habana since the times of Castro Ruz. This is the crazy jarabe composed by Lucifer This is the crazy jarabe. The one that takes the souls to hell to suffer This is the crazy Jarabe composed by Lucifer
mi amor ablandarte Si te hago un cariño, me haces un desprecio Luego vas diciendo que mi amor es necio.	I loved you completely I adored you with everything Little birds fly, and fly observing If rocks are hard you are like a diamond which my love has not managed to soften When I try to please you, you ignore me Then you say that my love is foolish

3) Guendanabani 3:45

Mexico. Son Itsmeño. Music: Daniel C. Pineda, lyrics: Juan Stubi
(Pronounce: Gen-dah-nah-bah-ni / La Vida /The Life).
Guitar, clarinet, small percussion & voices.

A slow, haunting waltz sung in the Zapotec Indian language from Oaxaca, Mexico; a language & culture over 2500 years old. Translations in Spanish & English.

Guenda nabani Xhianga sicaru Ne gasti ru ni Uganda laa Diuxhi biseenda laanu idxi layu Ne la cuidxi laanu ra nuu	La vida es muy hermosa y no hay nada que se le compare. Dios nos mandó a la tierra y el mismo nos llamara a su lado.	Life is beautiful There is nothing to compare to it God send us to The Earth and he himself will take us to his side
Napu que gapu zie lu Caditi napu ziaanu Nahuini naro,guira zabi Cadi guixhi huidxe guuyulaa ma zeeda bi Ti bisaana sti Nga huaxha que ziuu dxi Laanu ma ziuu nu guiba Xhunaxhi do ngagapa laanundaani na	Todos tenemos que morirnos, y todos iremos a la última morada (tumba). Tengas o no tengas, (riquezas) te vas a ir, y no porque tengas te vas a quedar. Niños, adultos, todos irán a casa (al Panteón). Y no manana, o pasado, los verás regresar porque hayan dejado algo. Eso jamas sucederá. Nosotros ya nos vamos al cielo, donde la diosa nos cobijara entre sus brazos.	We all have to die and we all will go to the last place Weather you have riches or don’t you will go You won’t stay because you have. Children, adults all Will go to home and you won’t see them tomorrow or day after tomorrow Even if they left something undone it’ll go undone We will go to heavens where the godess will hold us in her arms
Zi ma ziuunu nacahui riaana ndani yoo Huadxi siado,ni biaana ruuna re ni salux pido Ne ruixhilu, Zuhuaa lu gala bato tinisa do Canaba lu xhunaxhi do Cu laabe ndani ladxi do Guiruti na qui zie Guira napa xhi che Ne dzi guidsinia zi Za duuna ne nu ira ni ma zie	Cuando partamos, oscura quedará la casa. Tarde y día, el que se quede llorará ante el altar, y se imaginara estar parado a la mitad del mar, pidiéndole a la Diosa que lo guarde en su corazón.	When we leave the house will remain dark Morning or afternoon the ones remaining will cry in front of the altar and the ones gone will imagine themselves standing in the middle of the ocean asking to the godess to keep them in her heart
	Que nadie diga que no se va a ir. Todos tenemos que partir. Y cuando se acerque el diá, nos reuniremos con los que ya partieron.	Nobody can say that won’t go We all have to go And when the day gets closer we’ll get together with the ones departed.

4) Cosechero 3:57

Argentina. Chamamé. Ramón Ayala
Guitar, violin, accordion & voices.

A rolling, sensual chamamé that bears poetic witness to the blood hard work, life & landscape of the workers in the cotton fields. Ramo’n Ayala bio at: http://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ramón_Ayala_(cantante_argentino)

El viejo río que va cruzando el amanecer. Como un gran camalotal Lleva la balsa en su loco vaivén.	The old river which Criss crosses the dawn, Like some giant mass of camalote plants Carries (my) raft in its mad fluctuation
Rumbo a la cosecha cosechero yo seré. Y entre copos blancos mi esperanza cantaré. Con manos curtidas dejaré en el algodón mi corazón. La tierra del Chaco quebrachera y montaraz, prenderá en mi sangre Con un ronco sapucai. Y sera en el surco mi sombrero bajo el sol faro de luz.	Headed to the harvest, a harvester I’ll be And between white puffs I’ll sing of my hope With leathery hands I’ll leave In the cotton my heart The wild land of El Chaco Will inflame my blood With a raucous sapukay And in the furrow my hat will be Under the sun a street light
Algodón que se va, que se va, que se va Plata blanda, mojada de luna y sudor. Un ranchito borrado de sueños y amor, quiero yo	Cotton going on and on and on Soft silver moistened with moon and sweat A ranchito, intoxicated with dreams and love Is what I want
De Corrientes vengo yo. Barranqueras ya se ve. Y en la costa un acordeón, Gimiendo va, su lento chamamé	From Corrientes I come Barranqueras is already in view, And on the shore an accordion Wails its slow chamamé
Rumbo a la cosecha cosechero yo seré. Y entre copos blancos mi esperanza cantaré. Con manos curtidas dejaré en el algodón mi corazón. La tierra del Chaco quebrachera y montaraz, prenderá en mi sangre Con un ronco sapucai. Y sera en el surco mi sombrero bajo el sol faro de luz.	Headed to the harvest, a harvester I’ll be And between white puffs I’ll sing of my hope With leathery hands I’ll leave In the cotton my heart The wild land of El Chaco Will inflame my blood With a raucous sapukay And in the furrow my hat will be Under the sun a street light
Algodón que se va, que se va, que se va Plata blanda, mojada de luna y sudor. Un ranchito borrado de sueños y amor, quiero yo, quiero yo.. quiero yo…

5) Periquera 4:02

Venezuela. Trad. Joropo
Harp, maracas & bombo.

A joyful, upbeat instrumental dance song from the llanos/plains & the llaneros/Cowboys who live there. With lots of poly-rhythm in 6/8 time. Joropo music is a Trad. collection of standards that everyone plays their own way. This music is shared by the plains people of Columbia.

6) Ti Feo 3:59

Mexico. Son Itsmeño. Demetrio Lopez Mendez
Guitar, clarinet, small percussion & voices.

A love song in waltz time sung in Zapotec (Indian) & Spanish, from Oaxaca, Mexico. Zapotec language and culture go back over 2500 years. This beloved Meztizo Indian song is widely interpreted in many southern/central regions, cultures and dialects and has become a mainstream Mexican favorite.

Si te hablan de mi mujercita. Si te hablan de mi en tu presencia. Diles que yo soy tu negro santo. Diles que yo soy tu negro santo.	If they speak to you of me, my life If they speak to you of me in your presence, tell them that I’m your black saint. Tell them that I’m your black saint.
Yo soy un feo, un feo que sabe amar, con todo su corazón que te quiere de verdad. Yo soy un feo, un feo que sabe amar. Con todo su corazón, y te llevara al altar.	I’m an ugly one. An ugly one that knows how to love with all of his heart, and he truly wants you.
Paguinica bena espadaguini paguinica bena nesalulu bushilaca benanga espirolo bushilaca benanga espirolo	I’m an ugly one An ugly one that knows how to love with all of his heart and will take you all the way to the altar
Nanga ti feo, ti feo granachi Negidubi lachi do Nesachaga nalelli Nanga ti feo, ti feo granachi Neguidubi lachido Nesachaga nalelli
Si te hablan de mi mujercita. Si te hablan de mi en tu presencia. Diles que yo soy tu negro santo. Diles que yo soy tu negro santo.
Yo soy un feo, un feo que sabe amar, con todo su corazón que te quiere de verdad. Yo soy un feo, un feo que sabe amar. Con todo su corazón, y te llevara al altar.

7) Playa Grande 3:46

Venezuela. Trad. song
Venezuelan cuatro, violin, accordion & voice.

A song from the early 1900’s by an unknown composer. The song describes a whole day into night & alternates between two parts; one describes slow things, like an early morning’s calm breeze, the sound of sea you wake with, the moonrise. The other part soars in double time describing quick things like a flock of birds hunting fish, or the tingle of a fast song.

Sopla la brisa en la alborada. Y trae la marejada dulce musicación. Brilla la arena, saltan los peces teniendo muchas veces la playa por prisión	The breeze blows in the early morning and the small waves bring sweet music The sand sparkles The fish jump having many times the beach as priso
Los pájaros marinos forman tropas voladoras sobre la mar. Huyen los peces, en su aletear. En cambio una barquilla que muy suave sobre el agua trae la red, recoge sus peroles y al fin, termina de pescar	The sea birds form hunting flying troupes over the sea The fish try to escape flying through the water Instead a little boat goes calmly over the water throws the net, picks up its baskets full and finishes the day fishing
En lontananza el sol declina. Y límpido fulmina un tierno resplandor. Detrás del cerro, surge la luna, brindándole fortuna a un pobre trovador.	Far away the sun declines and fulminates with a clean tender shining From behind the hill the moon surges giving fortune to a poor wandering musician
El suave tintineo de una lira es la delicia de aquel lugar. Se oyen sus cuerdas himno triunfal.	The soft high clinging of a lyre is the enchantment of that place Its strings sound like a triumphal anthem
Y aspirando el aroma de la reina de las flores de allí. Cantando sus amores al son de las olas del mar.	And breathing in the aroma of the queen of the flowers there Singing love songs to the rhythm of the ocean waves

8) Los Hermanos 5:25

Argentina. Milonga. Atahualpa Yupanqui
Guitar, clarinet & voice.

A lush milonga with interludes of conversation between clarinet & guitar. The song sings of our profound, intrinsic human connections to each other - in, through & beyond life. The title of the CD comes from this song; “…And these songs that we eat: Seeds of immensity”. Atajulpa Yupanqui bio: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Atahualpa_Yupanqui

Yo tengo tantos hermanos, que no los puedo contar. En el valle la montaña, en la pampa y en el mar. Cada cual con sus trabajos, con sus sueños, cada cual. Con la esperanza adelante con los recuerdos detrás. Yo tengo tantos hermanos, que no los puedo contra	I have so many brothers More than I can count. From the valleys, the mountains the plains and the seas People connected by work, by dream, with hope ahead, and memory behind. I have so many brothers More than I can count
Gente de mano caliente por eso de la amistad. Con un lloro pá llorarlo, con un rezo pá rezar.	People whose hands are hot from extending them in friendship. With a cry for a cry, a prayer for a prayer.
Con un horizonte abierto que siempre esta mas allá, y esa fuerza pá buscarlo con tezón y voluntad. Cuando parece mas cerca es cuando se aleja mas’: Yo tengo tantos hermanos que no los puedo contar.	With an open horizon that is always far beyond And the strength & will to keep going towards it Because the closer it looks, the further away it actually is. I have so many brothers More than I can count
Y asi seguimos andando curtidos de soledad. Nos perdemos por el mundo nos volvemos a encontrar. Y asi nos reconocemos por el lejano mirar. Por las coplas que mordemos, semillas de inmensidad. Y asi seguimos andando, curtidos de soledad. Y en nosotros nuestros muertos, pá que nadie quede atrás Yo tengo tantos hermanos que no los puedo contar. Y una hermana muy Hermosa que se llama libertad.	That’s how we go on tanned like leather by loneliness It’s how we lose each other in the world It’s how we find each other again It’s how we recognize each other from a great distance And these songs that we eat: Seeds of immensity. That’s how we go on tanned like leather by loneliness And our beloved dead Well, we take them with us, in us so no one gets left behind I have so many brothers more than I can count And a sister, very beautiful whose name is freedom.

Credits: Abel Rocha: Harp, cuatro, guitar, vocals. Madeleine Sosin: Violin, maracas, small percussion, vocals. With Amy Denio: Accordion, clarinet, bombo, vocals.

Recorded & mixed by Scott Colburn/Gravel Voice Studios.
Mastered by Mell Dettmer.
For bookings: Josh Dunson: Real People’s Music. rpmjosh@aol.com
For lyrics & translations go to: http://www.correoaereo.us/albums/semillas-de-inmensidad/
CD design: Karina Bingham. CD artwork: Patricia Fatta
ASCAP, All copyrights, correoaereo.com

For my dad Henry, who found in his family, his treasure, and for all those everywhere participating in creating, in their own unique ways, a caring, just, healthy, peaceful, and unabashedly creative, curious, celebratory, beautiful & humorous world for all, in harmony with our wondrous earth which sustains all life.

Love & gratitude to our parents, Abel & Aurora Rocha & Georgette & Dr. Henry Sosin. And to Amy Denio, Karina Bingham, Mick Heltsley @ Agua Verde, Josh Dunson @ RealPeoplesMusic.com, & our dear families & friends.

Designed & Managed by Peter Chan