Pla Quinquenal
Dormies mig agafada al meu braç,
ha sonat un clàxon de cotxe encallat,
has obert un ull mandrós i callat
i has tornat al teu somni privat.
Pujava el cafè i ens he recordat
ballant a una platja amb barrets mexicans,
la cara que feies al anar girant
crec que era de felicitat,
crec que era de felicitat.
De moment no et riuré més les gràcies,
per una vegada he entès el que cal.
Passi-ho bé, que m'esborro del mapa
per preparar a l'ombra un gran pla quinquennal.
Sento que et despertes, et vinc a buscar,
nena tens cafè, vols que torri pa?
Al diari rés massa estimulant,
mica en mica ja et vas despertant.
I fumes mirant els cotxes passar,
t'entregues a l'aire dens del veïnat,
penso proposar que baixem al far,
jo que mai he estat home de mar,
jo que mai he estat home de mar.
El primer any compraré una corbata ben llarga estampada de colors crus,
i, el segon, els millors professors europeus m'ensenyaran a fer el nus.
Pel tercer guardo l'antologia dels grans octosíl·labs que parlen de tu
i, pel quart, l'edició limitada folrada en vellut.
I el cinquè ens creuarem per l'Eixample i demanarem taula en un bar de menús.
Trauré pit, ensenyaré la corbata, i llavors, bonica,
dependrà de tu.
Five-Year Plan
You held me tight on my arm,
A car horn from a stuck car sounded,
You lazily opened one eye and stayed silent
And went back to your private dream.
The coffee was brewing and we remembered
Dancing on a beach with Mexican hats,
The face you made as you turned around
I think it was of happiness,
I think it was of happiness.
For now, I won't thank you anymore,
For once I understood what is needed.
Have a good time, I'm erasing myself from the map
To prepare in the shade a great five-year plan.
I feel you waking up, I come to find you,
Baby, you have coffee, do you want me to toast bread?
The newspaper is not very stimulating,
Little by little you are waking up.
And you smoke watching the cars go by,
You surrender to the dense air of the neighborhood,
I'm thinking of suggesting we go down to the lighthouse,
I who have never been a seafaring man,
I who have never been a seafaring man.
The first year I'll buy a long tie printed with bright colors,
And the second, the best European professors will teach me how to tie the knot.
For the third, I keep the anthology of the great octosyllables that speak of you
And, for the fourth, the limited edition lined in velvet.
And the fifth, we'll cross paths in the Eixample and ask for a table in a menu bar.
I'll puff out my chest, show the tie, and then, my dear,
It will depend on you.