Joan Manuel Serrat - Penelope
Penélope,
Con su bolso de piel marrón,
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 mí, 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 Penélope.
Joan Manuel Serrat - Penelope - http://motolyrics.com/joan-manuel-serrat/penelope-lyrics-english-translation.html
Penélope,
Tristes a fuerza de esperar
Sus ojos parecen brillar
Si un tren silba a lo lejos.
Penélope,
Uno tras otro los ve pasar
Mira sus caras, los 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,
"Tú no eres quien yo espero."
Y se quedó
Con su bolso de piel marrón,
Y sus zapatitos de tacón
Sentada en la estación.
Joan Manuel Serrat - Penelope (English translation)
Penelope,
with her brown leather purse
and her high-heeled shoes
and her Sunday dress.
Penelope,
she sits on a bench on the platform
and wants for the first train to arrive
waving her fan.
They say in the town that the traveler stopped
his watch a spring afternoon.
"Goodbye, my love, no cry for me, I will return
before the leaves fall from the willows.
Think of me, I will return for you…"
Poor unhappy,
her childhood was stopped
a grey afternoon of April
when her lover departed.
Withered away,
in her garden to her last flower,
there is not even one willoe in the main street
for Penelope.
Penelope,Joan Manuel Serrat - Penelope - http://motolyrics.com/joan-manuel-serrat/penelope-lyrics-english-translation.html
sad from waiting,
your eyes seem to shine
if a train whistles in the distance.
Penelope,
one after another she sees them pass,
she looks at their faces, she hears them talk,
for her they are dolls.
They say in the town that the traveler returned,
he found her on the green pine bench.
He called to her: "Penelope, mi faithful love, my peace,
stop now weaving dreams in your mind,
look at me, I am your love, I returned".
She smiled at him
with her eyes filled of yesterday
neither his face nor his skin were like this
"You are not whom I am waiting for"
And she remained
with her brown leather purse
and her high-helled shoes
seated in the station.