Com un Puny - Raimon

Quan tu te’n vas al teu país d’Itàlia

I jo ben sol em quede a Maragall

Aquest carrer que mai no ens ha fet gràcia

Se’m torna el lloc d’un gris inútil ball

Ausiàs March em ve a la memòria

El seu vell cant, de cop, se m’aclareix

A casa, sol, immers en la cabòria

Del meu desig de tu que és gran i creix:

«Plagués a déu que mon pensar fos mort

E que passàs ma vida en dorment»

Entenc molt bé, desgraciada sort

L'última arrel d’aquest trist pensament

El seu perquè atàvic, jove, fort

Jo sent en mi, corprès, profundament

Al llit tan gran d’italiana mida

Passe les nits sentint la teua absència

No dorm qui vol ni és d’oblit la vida

Amor, amor, és dura la sentència

Quan tu te’n vas al teu país d’Itàlia

El dolor ve a fer-me companyia

I no se’n va, que creix en sa llargària

Despert de nit somou, somort, de dia

Em passa això i tantes altres coses

Sentint-me sol que és sentir-te lluny;

Ho veig molt clar quan fa ja cent vint hores

Que compte el temps que lentament s’esmuny

Vindrà el teu cos que suaument em poses

En el meu cos quan ens sentim ben junts

I floriran millor que mai les roses:

A poc a poc ens clourem com un puny

When you go to your country of Italy

And I stay alone in Maragall

This street that has never been funny to us

The place of a gray pointless dance returns to me

Ausiàs March comes to mind

His old song, suddenly, becomes clear to me

At home, alone, immersed in the sun

Of my desire for you that is great and growing:

"I wish to God that I thought he was dead

And that I spent my life sleeping"

I understand very well, poor luck

The last root of this sad thought

His because atavistic, young, strong

I feel in me, embodied, deeply

In the big bed of Italian size

I spend the nights feeling your absence

He does not sleep who wants to, nor is life forgotten

Love, love, the sentence is harsh

When you go to your country of Italy

Pain comes to keep me company

And it doesn't go away, it grows in its length

Awake at night, sleepy, by day

This and so many other things happen to me

Feeling lonely is feeling far away;

I can see it very clearly when it is already one hundred and twenty hours ago

Count the time that slowly slips away

Your body will come that you gently put on me

In my body when we feel good together

And roses will bloom better than ever:

Little by little we close like a fist