I’m not quite sure what we here in the west thought the godless commies were up to in the 1950s and 1960s. But what they were up to was the same things we were up to. They were just poorer. Romania is generally considered the most oppressive of the Soviet autocracies. But just like we were here in the states, the Romanians were having a folk revival in the early 1960s. I’ll have to mine that period in the future.
For now, I’ve discovered a much later artist from the same tradition, Ducu Bertzi. He’s a singer-songwriter from Sighetu Marmației in the northernmost of Romania. I don’t know much about him, other than that he performed a lot with the much more famous Florian Pittiș. You know us Americans: we don’t get out much. Anyway, here is a song, “Suflet Fără Chei” off (at least), Best Of ’06. The literal meaning of the title is “Soul Without Pier.” But Google Translate offers “Keyless Soul.” I think the idea is a soul without a point of access. It sounds very poetic and sad. Regardless, it is beautiful song:
I run the lyrics through Google Translate and the result was atrocious. So here is my humble attempt:
Soul without keys
Autumn, winter, summer go by and evening swells up in the hearts
The wind playing unendingly over your thin ankle
My palm in prayer is setting over your breasts
And I am dreaming that you are a real golden bowl filled with saps
When actually you are a memory, you and your thin ankle
My hand, alas! is dying on the chords while you are not feeling any pain
Refrain:
Hey, you, soul without keys
Without gates and without walls
You leave only wrinkles in your wake
Your honey tasting body is shining in the room
From another time from another life unraveling in the fog
Only in my words your hot thigh sleeps
I have you only in my song, you glowing apple shining on a twig
And I am longing and I am desolate and I am wondering whether I am alive
My hand, alas! is dying on the chords and you are not feeling any pain
Summer comes and winter comes, only you don’t come to me
Your body like a flame stopped coming to my room
The star is shining in my window where is your blue shadow
Where are your dear footsteps, your wild strawberry smelling breasts
And I am cold and I am bitter and I struggle in vain
My hand, alas! is dying on the chords and you are not feeling any pain
Tearjerkers are DB’s specialty. In my opinion, his best is “Cind s-o-mpartit norocu”. You will have to learn Romanian to fully appreciate the lyrics. There’s no other way around it :)
Thank you! Even a proper linguistic translation normally makes poetry sound horrible. But the images come across surprisingly well here. The nice thing with music is that you don’t especially have to understand the words. But it is true that it is best to understand the language. I’m afraid that Romanian, with all due respect to that great language, is far down my list!