Cucurrucucú

Cucurrucucú, what a beautiful sound, seems as if like someone clearing her throat before singing some pleasing melody, Maybe a maynah perched above some branches in the tree, half hidden, singing contently without any worries or a damn to the world.

But sadly I cannot digress anymore, This post is not about any other gutteral bird calls or a treatise on nature, Its just a mere translation of the beautiful spanish song, sung by the Brazilian great Caetano Veloso. THis song is beautifully potrayed in the Spanish Movie Hable con ella(Talk to her)

Before I start, Let me Thank the google translator for helping me with the spanish words and Two great translators from Proz, Mercano and Paloma Maciel whose translations gave me the insight into the poems and help me translate it on my own.

Cucurrucucú, Paloma

Film: Hable Con Ella (Talk to her)
Director: Pedro Almodóvar
Singer: Caetano Veloso
Music : Tomás Méndez

Dicen que por las noches
no más se le iba en puro llorar;
dicen que no comía,
no más se le iba en puro tomar.

Juran que el mismo cielo
se estremecía al oír su llanto,
cómo sufrió por ella,
y hasta en su muerte la fue llamando.

Ay, ay, ay, ay, ya cantaba,
ay, ay, ay, ay, ya gemía,
Ay, ay, ay, ay, ya cantaba,
de pasión mortal moría.

Que una paloma triste
muy de mañana le va a cantar
a la casita sola
con sus puertitas de par en par;

juran que esa paloma
no es otra cosa más que su alma,
que todavía espera
a que regrese la desdichada.

Cucurrucucú paloma, cucurrucucú no llores.
Las piedras jamás, paloma,
¿qué van a saber de amores?

Cucurrucucú, cucurrucucú,
cucurrucucú, cucurrucucú.

Cucurrucucú, Dove

It is said, in the darkness of the nights
All he ever did was cry
They say, food he didn't touch and never did eat
All he did was drink to die

It is sworn that the sky also trembled
As it heard him so bitterly cry
How without her he had so long suffered
That he called out to her as death did pry

Ay ay ay ay yaa, he would so sing
Ay ay ay ay yaa, he would so cry
Ay, ay, ay, yaa, he would so laugh
and of a mortal passion he did die.

What a sad little dove it was,
so early in the morning sang to him
To the tiny little house, the lonely house,
with the doors open wide, little but prim.

It is sworn that this little dove
is no other than his very soul
And with bated eyes, he still waits
For her to come back and be together

Cucurrucucú, dove;
cucurrucucú, dont cry;
Never ever cry for a stone, dove
For what ever do they know of love?

Cucurrucucú, cucurrucucú,
cucurrucucú, cucurrucucú.