Fa Vint Anys Que Tinc Vint Anys
Fa vint anys que tinc vint anys.
Vint anys i encara tinc força,
i no tinc l'ànima morta,
i em sento bullir la sang.
I encara em sento capaç
de cantar si un altre canta.
Avui que encara tinc veu
i encara puc creure en déus...
Vull cantar a les pedres, la terra, l'aigua,
el blat i el camí que vaig trepitjant.
A la nit, al cel, a aquest mar tant nostre,
i al vent que al matí ve a besar-me el rostre.
Vull alçar la veu,
per una tempesta,
per un raig de sol,
o pel rossinyol
que ha de cantar al vespre.
Fa vint anys que tinc vint anys.
Vint anys i encara tinc força,
i no tinc l'ànima morta,
i em sento bullir la sang.
Fa vint anys que tinc vint anys.
i el cor, encara, s'embala,
per un moment d'estimar,
o en veure un infant plorar...
Vull cantar l'amor. Al primer. Al darrer.
Al que et fa patir. Al que vius un dia.
Vull plorar amb aquells que es troben tots sols
i sense cap amor van passant pel món.
Vull alçar la veu,
per cantar als homes
que han nascut dempeus,
que viuen dempeus,
i que dempeus moren.
Vull i vull i vull cantar
avui que encara tinc veu.
Qui sap si podré demá.
Fa vint anys que tinc vint anys.
Vint anys i encara tinc força,
i no tinc l'ànima morta,
i em sento bullir la sang...
It's Been Twenty Years Since I Turned Twenty
It's been twenty years since I turned twenty.
Twenty years and I still have strength,
and my soul's not dead,
and I feel my blood boiling.
And I still feel capable
of singing if someone else sings.
Today, while I still have a voice
and I can still believe in gods...
I want to sing to the stones, the earth, the water,
the wheat and the path I'm walking on.
At night, in the sky, in this sea that's ours,
and to the wind that comes to kiss my face in the morning.
I want to raise my voice,
for a storm,
for a ray of sun,
or for the nightingale
that has to sing in the evening.
It's been twenty years since I turned twenty.
Twenty years and I still have strength,
and my soul's not dead,
and I feel my blood boiling.
It's been twenty years since I turned twenty.
and my heart, still, races,
for a moment of love,
or seeing a child cry...
I want to sing love. The first. The last.
The one that makes you suffer. The one you live for a day.
I want to cry with those who find themselves all alone
and without any love, they pass through the world.
I want to raise my voice,
to sing to the men
who were born standing,
who live standing,
and who die standing.
I want and I want and I want to sing
today while I still have a voice.
Who knows if I’ll be able to tomorrow.
It's been twenty years since I turned twenty.
Twenty years and I still have strength,
and my soul's not dead,
and I feel my blood boiling...
Escrita por: J. M. Serrat