The white milk of the moon
Words: Mercè Rodoreda
Music: Xavi Múrcia
Translation: Maribel Sánchez Valero
The white milk of the moon
I drink it very slowly.
I devore flowers one by one,
at the table, like a game.
Jealous of it, a cloud gets cracked.
Drops of pearl colour
splash my nose and my hair.
And I leave. I close down
and I shut myself in my island
of the red lilies.
Book: Agonia de llum
I have loved very much
Words: Miquel Martí i Pol
Music: Xavi Múrcia
Translation: Maribel Sánchez Valero
I have loved very much and I still love very much.
I say it happy and even a little surprised
for all that love which makes everything clear.
I’ve loved very much and I will love much more
without any law of consideration neither restrictions
that cuts me down the deep pleasure
that many people will say incomprehensible.
I say it happy: I have loved very much and more
I have to love. I like everybody knows it.
From the clear altitude of this body
which provides me the baffle and the answer
when desire demands plenitude,
from the intensity of a look
either from the scum of a single kiss
I proclaim my love: the genuine.
Book: Estimada Marta
Device
words: Joan Salvat-Papasseit
music: Xavi Múrcia
traslation: Maribel Sánchez Valero
Let’s create the battalion of those that never go back
and only a kiss will take them prisoners,
let’s create the battalion of those who brake bars
and only a kiss will knock them down.
Let’s create the battalion of the vanguard soldiers:
the first kiss it has to be for the firsts.
Book: La gesta dels estels
Small olives of love
words: Maria-Mercè Marçal
music: Xavi Múrcia
traslation: Montserrat Abelló
Oh, love, if you would walk
under the olive tree,
that the moon is playing
hide and seek on the lawn!
Of course I will walk
under the olive trees,
full of olives and love,
oh, those pockets of wind!
Leaves above and kisses,
rain in the air full of branches,
small olives of love,
oh, such a bitter taste!
Oh, such a bitter taste
the tiny love on my teeth!
The olive trees are left naked
by the silk hands of the wind.
Book: Sal Oberta
I expect marvels
Words: Montserrat Abelló
Music: Xavi Múrcia
Traslation: Montserrat Abelló
I expect marvels
at every corner
There is happiness
in the air
The sun fills
my eyes.
My omen
is a line
against the sun
a spot
on the horizon
Book: Foc a les mans
I live
andlive agajn
every poem,
every word.
I love life
so much
that I make it mine
over and over.
Book:El blat del temps
Motto
words: Maria-Mercè Marçal
music: Xavi Múrcia
traslation: Sam Abrams
I am grateful to fate for three gifts: to have been born a woman,
From de working class and an opressed nation.
And the turbid azure of being three times a rebel.
Book:Cau de Llunes
The woman who looks
Words: Hermínia Mas
Words to I’am the woman: Mirna
Music: Xavi Múrcia
Translation: Araceli Molina
She’s the woman who remains silent but keeps on looking:
She looks at her children come and then leave home
She looks at her neighbours making love on the sofa.
She remains silent when her husband is late
With a lie in his pocket.
She’s the woman hiding behind the curtains
Who looks at her life go by.
She picks up life’s little pieces, she gives them to everybody
But she doesn’t dare to keep any for herself.
Book:El vent de les andanes
I’m the woman who’s thirsty of life,
Who’s not happy with just looking and remaining silent,
I’m the woman who goes out onto the street,
Who screams, who runs, who speaks up,
Who laughs, who loves and who doesn’t hide.
Life for her is becoming so short…
Eighth March
words: Maria-Mercè Marçal
music: Xavi Múrcia
traslation: Montserrat Abelló
Raising up both hands
towards the moon,
we open a window
in a closed up sky.
Heiresses of those women
burnt yesterday
we light a fire
with ruin and fear.
Witches will come
of all ages.
They will throw their brooms
to burn in the fire,
tubs and kitchen cloths,
soap and linen blue,
pots and pans,
scourers and nappies.
We will throw our brooms
to burn in the fire,
pots and pans,
linen blue and soap.
And the ashes it leaves
we will not change
for gold, iron,
sceptres nor daggers.
Born from the flames
we will only have life
as a weapon and shield
in our hands.
Smoke will draw
the beginning of History
like joyful ivy
surrounding our body
and it will be rainy and sunny
and we will dance to the rhythm
of new songs
the earth will receive.
We will vindicate night and
the word WOMAN.
And then the tree of freedom
will grow.
Book: Bruixa de dol
Posters on a vegetal riot
words: Maria-Mercè Marçal
music: Xavi Múrcia
traslation: Montserrat Abelló
Women, come down, come
to dance on the grass.
Let’s decorate our balconies
and dig the earth.
Let’s fill it with rain and sunshine.
;Let’s defend it with our teeth,
so the tree of freedom
may grow.
Let us sow there
The seed of green tenderness,
the wheat of excitement,
adventure and mint
and when it all blossoms
let’s announce it everywhere,
so the tree of freedom
may grow more and more.
Bearing wihin us
the flame of that riot
let’s put up our flags
at the top of the tower.
Flags that show the colours
of a new joy,
so the tree of freedom
may bloom.
We will free pigeons
to begin the celebration
and we will invent new roads
in skies without borders.
There will be hostels everywhere
and we will invite everyone
to taste the fruit from
the tree of freedom.
Book: Sal obertal
I’ve loved life very much
Words: Vicent Andrés Estellés
Music: Xavi Múrcia
Translation: Maribel Sánchez Valero
I’ve loved life very much
not like fullness, a whole thing,
but, for example, as I love good cooking,
now a little bit of this sauce,
oh!, and this little radish, that spring garlic,
what do you think about this hake?,
it is amazing the fact of a cherry,
I enjoy life like that,
this glass of water,
a young girl in the street
this green
this petal
that
a couple walking hand in hand and looking into their eyes,
and everything with its little name always minuscule,
like this robin,
that belly button,
like the first tooth of a child.
Book: Les pedres de l’àmfora
The days
words: Joan Vinyoli
music: Xavi Múrcia
traslation: Maribel Sánchez Valero
The days blossom and die,
and they only leave us sorrow.
With starry nights you fill
a time, your heart, too much,
you picked up the pale gold of the dusk
like flowers for intimate gardens.
World’s beauty possessed,
secure, happy truth,
lose as soon as you reach it,
desire of knowing a purest
life, highest, quiet
heart’s mystery, and then:
everything reduces, everything die, crushed
by the hours hard rhythm.
We pass saying goodbye backwards:
what we have had for a moment
is lost in the useless race;
it remains only a memory and a lament.
We pass like the first ardour
of the dawn, like the wind’s murmur.
Book: Poesia completa
I can’t help loving you
Words: Mirna Vilasís
Music: Xavi Múrcia
Translation: Montserrat Abelló
Because my body demands it.
Because I want to. Maria-Mercè Marçal
I can’t help loving you.
Because my body demands it.
Because I want to.
And I can’t do anything about it.
I love you
because I can’t help it.
I love you
because destiny crossed
two parallel paths.
I love you.
I love you
because my body demands it.
I love you
because years go by,
but desire is still here.
I love you.
I love you.
I love you because I want to.
I love you
because your love
is tattooed on me
I love you
Love is night
Words: Mirna Vilasís
Music: Xavi Múrcia
Translation: Maribel Sáncehz Valero
I’ve left the ligth switched on,
for you don’t be scared,
and I’ve found out in your eyes
that the world is beautiful.
If you are afraid of owls
and escape when it rains,
don’t suffer, I’m here,
because love is night.
Sleep, my little Martí,
the sky is switched off.
Fly in your boat
made of sheets and stars.
When I look at you
for knowing if you’re sleeping,
you realize and smile in your boat
and you fill me with ligth.
This wonderful world,
that you like very much,
while you are sleeping
it will be lazing
and waiting for you.
Sleep, my little Marcel,
the sky is switched off.
Fly in your boat
made of sheets and stars.
Oh! apple of my eye,
have a sweet dream,
oh! little witch of my heart
no ni no ni non.
Butterflies and little birds
will fly with you
and dolls will paint
a dream for you.
Sleep, Maria, sleep,
the sky is switched off.
Fly in your boat
made of sheets and stars.
Sleep, little Martí,
sleep, little Marcel,
sleep, Maria, sleep
I sing for you a lullaby.