... and I´ll dance with you in Vienna

Take this Waltz ,

by Leonard Cohen,

from Federico Garcia Lorca´s poem,

Pequeño Vals Vienés

En Viena hay diez muchachas, 
un hombro donde solloza la muerte 
y un bosque de palomas disecadas. 
Hay un fragmento de la mañana 
en el museo de la escarcha. 
Hay un salón con mil ventanas. 
¡Ay, ay, ay, ay! 
Toma este vals con la boca cerrada. 

Este vals, este vals, este vals, 
de sí, de muerte y de coñac 
que moja su cola en el mar. 

Te quiero, te quiero, te quiero, 
con la butaca y el libro muerto, 
por el melancólico pasillo, 
en el oscuro desván del lirio, 
en nuestra cama de la luna 
y en la danza que sueña la tortuga. 
¡Ay, ay, ay, ay! 
Toma este vals de quebrada cintura. 

En Viena hay cuatro espejos 
donde juegan tu boca y los ecos. 
Hay una muerte para piano 
que pinta de azul a los muchachos. 
Hay mendigos por los tejados. 
Hay frescas guirnaldas de llanto. 
¡Ay, ay, ay, ay! 
Toma este vals que se muere en mis brazos. 

Porque te quiero, te quiero, amor mío, 
en el desván donde juegan los niños, 
soñando viejas luces de Hungría 
por los rumores de la tarde tibia, 
viendo ovejas y lirios de nieve 
por el silencio oscuro de tu frente. 
¡Ay, ay, ay, ay! 
Toma este vals del "Te quiero siempre". 

En Viena bailaré contigo 
con un disfraz que tenga 
cabeza de río. 
¡Mira qué orilla tengo de jacintos! 
Dejaré mi boca entre tus piernas, 
mi alma en fotografías y azucenas, 
y en las ondas oscuras de tu andar 
quiero, amor mío, amor mío, dejar, 
violín y sepulcro, las cintas del vals.

Take this Waltz


Now in Vienna there are ten pretty women
There's a shoulder where Death comes to cry There's a lobby with nine hundred windows
There's a tree where the doves go to die
There's a piece that was torn from the morning,
And it hangs in the Gallery of Frost
Take this waltz, take this waltz
Take this waltz with the clamp on its jaws

I want you, I want you, I want you
On a chair with a dead magazine In the cave at the tip of the lilly,
In some hallway where love's never been
On a bed where the moon has been sweating,
In a cry filled with footsteps and sand
Take this waltz, take this waltz
Take its broken waist in your hand
This waltz, this waltz, this waltz, this waltz
With its very own breath of brandy and Death Dragging its tail in the sea

There's a concert hall in Vienna
Where your mouth had a thousand reviews
There's a bar where the boys have stopped talking
They've been sentenced to death by the blues Ah, but who is it climbs to your picture
With a garland of freshly cut tears?
Take this waltz, take this waltz
Take this waltz, it's been dying for years

There's an attic where children are playing,
Where I've got to lie down with you sIoon,
In a dream of Hungarian lanterns,
In the mist of some sweet afternoon
And I'll see what you've chained to your sorrow,
All your sheep and your lillies of snow
Take this waltz, take this waltz
With its "I'll never forget you, you know!"
This waltz, this waltz, this waltz, this waltz
With its very own breath of brandy and Death Dragging its tail in the sea

And I'll dance with you in Vienna I'll be wearing a river's disguise
The hyacinth wild on my shoulder,
My mouth on the dew of your thighs
And I'll bury my soul in a scrapbook,
With the photographs there, and the moss
And I'll yield to the flood of your beauty
My cheap violin and my cross
And you'll carry me down on your dancing
To the pools that you lift on your wrist
O my love, o my love
Take this waltz, take this waltz
It's yours now. It's all that there is