Matándome suavemente...

Matándome suavemente (traducción)

Rasgando mi dolor con sus dedos,
cantando mi vida con sus palabras,
matándome suavemente con su canción,
matándome suavemente con su canción,
contando toda mi vida con sus palabras,
matándome suavemente, con su canción.

Escuché que cantaba una buena canción.
Escuché que tenía un estilo.
Y entonces vine a verlo,
para escuchar un rato.
Y allí estaba él, este joven,
un extraño para mis ojos.

Rasgando mi dolor con sus dedos,
cantando mi vida con sus palabras,
matándome suavemente con su canción,
matándome suavemente con su canción,
contando toda mi vida con sus palabras,
matándome suavemente, con su canción.

Me sentí toda sonrojada con fiebre,
avergonzada por el público.
Sentí que él encontró mis cartas,
y leyó cada una de ellas en voz alta.
Rogué para que termine,
pero él sólo seguía.

Rasgando mi dolor con sus dedos,
cantando mi vida con sus palabras,
matándome suavemente con su canción,
matándome suavemente con su canción,
contando toda mi vida con sus palabras,
matándome suavemente, con su canción.

Cantaba como si me conociera
en todas mis penurias.
Y luego miró justo a través mío
como si yo no estuviera allí.
Y simplemente siguió cantando,
cantando claro y fuerte.

Rasgando mi dolor con sus dedos,
cantando mi vida con sus palabras,
matándome suavemente con su canción,
matándome suavemente con su canción,
contando toda mi vida con sus palabras,
matándome suavemente, con su canción.

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Killing me softly (letra original)

Strumming my pain with his fingers,
singing my life with his words,
killing me softly with his song,
killing me softly with his song,
telling my whole life with his words,
killing me softly, with his song.

I heard he sang a good song.
I heard he had a style.
And so I came to see him,
to listen for a while.
And there he was, this young boy,
a stranger to my eyes.

Strumming my pain with his fingers,
singing my life with his words,
killing me softly with his song,
killing me softly with his song,
telling my whole life with his words,
killing me softly, with his song.

I felt all flushed with fever,
embarrassed by the crowd.
I felt he found my letters,
and read each one out loud.
I prayed that he would finish,
but he just kept right on.

Strumming my pain with his fingers,
singing my life with his words,
killing me softly with his song,
killing me softly with his song,
telling my whole life with his words,
killing me softly, with his song.

He sang as if he knew me
in all my dark despair.
And then he looked right through me
as if I wasn’t there.
and he just kept on singing,
singing clear and strong.

Strumming my pain with his fingers,
singing my life with his words,
killing me softly with his song,
killing me softly with his song,
telling my whole life with his words,
killing me softly, with his song...

By Roberta Flack

 

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