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SPANISH HOLY WEEK: THE "SAETA" - Spanish Ways

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Posted: Wed Mar 27, 2013 6:18pm
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For anyone attending the Holy Week processions, particularly those taking place in Andalucía, it will not be unusual to hear a "saeta", a sombre and dramatic song "a cappella" sang with passion by someone from the crowd or from a balcony. Generally, the procession stops while the singer sings his/her prayer. Some "saetas" have little artistic value; however, some are poignant masterpieces of a very old art, possibly of Arab origin.

The "saeta" I like most and always brings tears to my eyes is the one composed by Joan Manuel Serrat, inspired by a poem from Antonio Machado and dedicated to Seville's famous "Cristo de los Gitanos" or Christ of the Gypsies. It is poignant, it is strong and beautiful and I would like to share it with you.

The lyrics in Spanish say the following:

DIJO UNA VOZ POPULAR:

"QUIEN ME PRESTA UNA ESCALERA
PARA SUBIR AL MADERO
PARA QUITARLE LOS CLAVOS
A JESUS EL NAZARENO?"

OH, LA SAETA AL CANTAR
AL CRISTO DE LOS GITANOS
SIEMPRE CON SANGRE EN LAS MANOS,
SIEMPRE POR DESENCLAVAR.

CANTAR DEL PUEBLO ANDALUZ
QUE TODAS LAS PRIMAVERAS
ANDA PIDIENDO ESCALERAS
PARA SUBIR A LA CRUZ.

CANTAR DE LA TIERRA MIA
QUE ECHA FLORES
AL JESUS DE LA AGONIA
Y ES LA FE DE MIS MAYORES.

OH, NO ERES TU MI CANTAR
NO PUEDO CANTAR, NI QUIERO
A ESE JESUS DEL MADERO,
SINO EL QUE ANDUVO EN LA MAR?

OH, NO ERES TU MI CANTAR
NO PUEDO CANTAR, NI QUIERO
A ESE JESUS DEL MADERO,
SINO EL QUE ANDUVO EN LA MAR? (This last verse is repeated several times)

And here is my translation. There are others on the Web, but I do not agree with them as I think that they have used some translation software and it does not convey the real message, which is beautiful and poignant. It's not a versified version, but I think that it was better for you to fully understand the lyrics.

A voice from the people said:

"Who may lend me a ladder

to climb up the Cross

so that I can pull out the nails

from (the hands of) Jesus of Nazareth."

Oh, the "saeta", the song

to the Christ of the Gypsies,

always with blood in His hands, (the statue is very graphic)

always (waiting) to be unnailed.

Song from the Andalusian people,

who, every Spring,

Is asking for ladders

to climb up the Cross. (notice the irony)

Song from my homeland

who tosses flowers

to the agonising Jesus

and it is my elder's faith. (same message in different words: nobody really cares)

Oh, You are not my song,

I neither can, nor wish to sing

to that Jesus on the Cross

but to the one who walked on the sea (last verse repeated several times)

I hope that you will enjoy it.


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