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作曲 : Leonard Cohen |
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作词 : Federico García Lorca |
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Now in Vienna there's ten pretty women |
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There's a shoulder where Death comes to cry |
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There's a lobby with nine hundred windows |
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There's a tree where the doves go to die |
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There's a piece that was torn from the morning |
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And it hangs in the Gallery of Frost |
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Ay, Ay, Ay, Ay |
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Take this waltz, take this waltz |
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Take this waltz with the clamp on its jaws |
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Oh I want you, I want you, I want you |
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On a chair with a dead magazine |
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In the cave at the tip of the lily |
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In some hallways where love's never been |
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On a bed where the moon has been sweating |
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In a cry filled with footsteps and sand |
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Ay, Ay, Ay, Ay |
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Take this waltz, take this waltz |
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Take its broken waist in your hand |
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|
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This waltz, this waltz, this waltz, this waltz |
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With its very own breath of brandy and Death |
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Dragging its tail in the sea |
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|
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There's a concert hall in Vienna |
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Where your mouth had a thousand reviews |
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There's a bar where the boys have stopped talking |
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They've been sentenced to death by the blues |
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Ah, but who is it climbs to your picture |
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With a garland of freshly cut tears? |
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Ay, Ay, Ay, Ay |
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Take this waltz, take this waltz |
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Take this waltz it's been dying for years |
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There's an attic where children are playing |
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Where I've got to lie down with you soon |
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In a dream of Hungarian lanterns |
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In the mist of some sweet afternoon |
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And I'll see what you've chained to your sorrow |
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All your sheep and your lilies of snow |
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Ay, Ay, Ay, Ay |
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Take this waltz, take this waltz |
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With its "I'll never forget you, you know!" |
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This waltz, this waltz, this waltz, this waltz ... |
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With its very own breath of brandy and Death |
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Dragging its tail in the sea |
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And I'll dance with you in Vienna |
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I'll be wearing a river's disguise |
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The hyacinth wild on my shoulder, |
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My mouth on the dew of your thighs |
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And I'll bury my soul in a scrapbook, |
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With the photographs there, and the moss |
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And I'll yield to the flood of your beauty |
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My cheap violin and my cross |
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And you'll carry me down on your dancing |
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To the pools that you lift on your wrist |
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Oh my love, Oh my love |
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Take this waltz, take this waltz |
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It's yours now. It's all that there is |
