El Vür dal Mancia

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El Vür dal Mancia (pronounced [ɛɫ ʋyɾ ðɐɫ ˈman̪t̪͡ʃə] or IPA: [ɛw ʋyɾ ðɐw ˈman̪t̪͡ʃə], original title: Man of La Mancha) is a musical with book by Dale Wasserman, lyrics by Joe Darion, and music by Mitch Leigh. It is based on Cervantes’ Don Quijote from the 17th century. The songs in El Vür dal Mancia were translated by His Lordship, Mà la Mha, Count of Thord, Baron of Hooligan in 2011/XXXII.

Song lyrics

El Vür dal Mancia (Éu, Domnul Chischote)

Original title: The Man of La Mancha (I, Don Quixote)
Link to the video

Talossan translation Original text
ÞERVANTES:
¿Qe setadréu el statx? Inposuarhéu ‘n vür.
Vetz, ¡entretz ainciün v’imaxhinaziun es videtz-lo!
Sieu num... Alonso Qihana... ‘n castelan dal campagna,
daditsch xhovan... evunai, cün faça espatlüt, uglhen
q’ardent avetz el féu dal vischta idra. Estind
restirat, o tent muiteu temp per els glhibreux. O lor
estudia del morgun àl nic’ht es sovint trans el
nic’ht ocsà. Es toct qi o lira l’opreßa...
lo suvimpla avetz la stugnaziun àl crastiun sè façiuns
intremptorxhas àl crastiun. O festa es festa es festa
txusca qe finalmint da sa mûchet da festaziun
sieu cervedour flapida. Colochind
l’onerosità trista da sanità,
o cuncepta el proxhect el pü stroinscheu
q’esteva txamais imaxhinat... à zeviénarh ‘n cnec’ht
es àð irh ut ainciün el mundeu per leidrestarh toct i
antierts. O non pü ischà l’Alonso Qihana ortzinar...
anstada ‘n cnec’ht domitattä qi’st säpescu à -
Domnul Chischote dal Mancia!

DOMNUL CHISCHOTE:
Üscüda-me nun
Oh tu mundeu zesolat es undestour,
Tu isch aic’hrotour es apütat come put estarh;
Es ‘n cnec’ht cün sieux bandieirs toct perfortiteir süravoirats
Nun avatieda sieu gantet à thu!

(CURFA)
Éu sint éu, Domnul Chischote,
El Domnul dal Mancia,
Va zestzinà clama es véu,
Es els vints läxhirs del fortün
M’apoartarha adlaint,
Oh aduvesevol eißalent
Aduvesevol eißalent
Adlaint àl gloria véu!

SANCIO PANZA:
Éu sint Sancio! Üc, éu sint Sancio!
Sovarhéu va Mestreu àl fim.
Zirarhéu àl tzara fiirmint
Éu sint sieu castelan, sieu amíc!

DOMNUL CHISCHOTE:
¡Üscüda-me, xhavours es sorcieirs
Es coloveirs da pec!
Toct dels voschtri dideux serbätici sint paßats,
Cair ‘n endevör sant isch nun à començarh
¡Es la virtù trionfarha enfin!

(EMBÙ REPETENT LA CURFA)
CERVANTES:
May I set the stage? I shall impersonate a man.
Come, enter into my imagination and see him!
His name... Alonso Quijana... a country squire,
no longer young... bony, hollow-faced... eyes
that burn with the fire of inner vision. Being
retired, he has much time for books. He studies
them from morn to night and often through the
night as well. And all he reads oppresses him...
fills him with indignation at man's murderous
ways toward man. He broods and broods and broods
until finally from so much brooding
his brains dry up. Laying down
the melancholy burden of sanity,
he conceives the strangest
project ever imagined... to become a knight-errant
and sally forth into the world to right all
wrongs. No longer shall he be plain Alonso Quijana...
but a dauntless knight known as -
Don Quixote de La Mancha!

DON QUIXOTE:
Hear me now
Oh thou bleak and unbearable world,
Thou art base and debauched as can be;
And a knight with his banners all bravely unfurled
Now hurls down his gauntlet to thee!

(CHORUS)
I am I, Don Quixote,
The Lord of La Mancha,
My destiny calls and I go,
And the wild winds of fortune
Will carry me onward,
Oh whithersoever they blow.
Whithersoever they blow,
Onward to glory I go!

SANCHO PANZA:
I'm Sancho! Yes, I'm Sancho!
I'll follow my master till the end.
I'll tell all the world proudly
I'm his squire! I'm his friend!

DON QUIXOTE:
Hear me, heathens and wizards
And serpents of sin!
All your dastardly doings are past,
For a holy endeavour is now to begin
And virtue shall triumph at last!

(BOTH REPEAT THE CHORUS)

Dulçinea

Original title: Dulcinea
Link to video

Talossan translation Original version
DOMNUL CHISCHOTE:
Doamna ducia… vierxha püc…
Non desfiséu à mirarh direct pa voastra piena
Da craintscha q’estadréu orpat par el frumoasitè. Mas
voi poscléu - ditz viens fäts voastra num.

ALDONZA:
Aldonza.

DOMNUL CHISCHOTE:
Va doamna ludicra.

ALDONZA:
¡Aldonza!

DOMNUL CHISCHOTE:
El num d’iensa fantaschla da cocina… eda salacor da
va doamna sè servatriça?

ALDONZA:
¡Te zireveu va num! Nun eicarda-se.

DOMNUL CHISCHOTE:
¿Pensa va doamna à subxhectarh-me à’iensa emprova?
Ah, soveran ducia da va coraziun captíu. Non voi
cumpavarhéu, cair éu säp…

Téu somnat da vhoi tro lueng,
Txamais voi videveu eda voi tocheveu.
Mas voi cogneçeveu cün toct da va coraziun.
Zemi d’iens prexheu, zemi d’iensa canziun,
Voi imrè tenetz estescu cün me.
Ainda qe noi imrè tiennent estescu separats.

Dulçinea… Dulçinea…
Víu el çéu quand voi víu, Dulçinea,
Es voastra num c’e com’iens erost
Qe ‘n áinxhell schuschta... Dulçinea… ¡Dulçinea!

Schi esforçadréu à vhoi,
Non trembletz es restreçetz
Del manutixheu sür voschtri caveglhen.
Permitetz vaes dits solamint à sensarh
Q’estetz varma es vivind,
Es aucün fantasma à fadarh in l’är.

Dulçinea… Dulçinea…
Téu quairat à vhoi, cantat da vhoi,
¡Somnat da vhoi, Dulçinea!

Nun voi téu trovat,
Es el mundeu säperà da voastra gloria,
Dulçinea… ¡Dulçinea!
DON QUIXOTE:
Sweet lady… fair virgin…
I dare not gaze full upon thy countenance
Lest I be blinded by beauty. But I implore
Thee - speak once thy name.

ALDONZA:
Aldonza.

DON QUIXOTE:
My lady jests.

ALDONZA:
Aldonza!

DON QUIXOTE:
The name of a kitchen-scullion… or perhaps my
lady’s serving-maid?

ALDONZA:
I told you my name! Now get out of the way.

DON QUIXOTE:
Did my lady think to put me to a test?
Ah, sweet sovereign of my captive heart. I shall
not fail thee, for I know…

I have dreamed thee too long,
Never seen thee or touched thee.
But known thee with all of my heart.
Half a prayer, half a song,
Thou hast always been with me,
Though we have been always apart.

Dulcinea… Dulcinea…
I see heaven when I see thee, Dulcinea,
And thy name is like a prayer
An angel whispers… Dulcinea… Dulcinea!

If I reach out to thee,
Do not tremble and shrink
From the touch of my hand on thy hair.
Let my fingers but see
Thou art warm and alive,
And no phantom to fade in the air.

Dulcinea… Dulcinea…
I have sought thee, sung thee,
Dreamed thee, Dulcinea!

Now I’ve found thee,
And the world shall know thy glory,
Dulcinea… Dulcinea!

C’e tanmateisch

Original title: It’s All The Same
Link to video

Talossan translation Original version
TREIXHENOURS:
¡Dal eziun! ¡Del vineu! ¡Aldonza! ¡Aldonza!
Véu per l’amor, véu per l’amor,
¡Véu àð Aldonza per l’amor!

ALDONZA (CURFA):
Viens paireu dels brätsilor sint com’iens altreu
Éu non säp perqet eda qi’st incusaval,
Ischéu cün dtu eda cün tu fratreu
C’e tanmateisch, c’e tanmateisch.
Acest téu ensegnat:
Qe quand el lux c’e destißat,
Aucün vür ardarha avetz ‘n fiama special,
À mhe provarhás avant q’el fim del nic'ht,
Q’estetz tanmateisch, estetz tanmateisch.

Sa non parla à mhe d’amor,
Éu non sint ‘n calucja cün uglhen estelätsilor,
Seta tu erxhent din va mha,
¡Es reçaifarhás qet ça compra!

(REPETA LA CURFA)

Oh, téu videscu tro dels licts,
Mas téu säpescu tro po del respós,
Es ameveu tro dels vürs
Avetz l’armiqesi brenind din va potrina.
Non me piaçent tu eda tu fratreu,
Non me piaça la vhida qe vivéu
Mas éu sint éu, éu sint Aldonza.
Es qet zonéu, çoiçéu à zonarh.
Viens paireu dels brätsilor sint com’iens altreu
¡C’e tanmateisch, c’e tanmateisch!

TREIXHENOURS:
¡Aldonza!
MULETEERS:
Food! Wine! Aldonza! Aldonza!
I come for love, I come for love,
I come to Aldonza for love!

ALDONZA (CHORUS):
One pair of arms is like another
I don’t know why or who’s to blame,
I’ll go with you or with your brother
It’s all the same, it’s all the same.
This I have learned:
That when the light’s out,
No man will burn with special flame,
You’ll prove to me before the night’s out,
You’re all the same, you’re all the same.

So do not talk to me of love,
I’m not a fool with starry eyes,
Just put your money in my hand,
And you will get what money buys!

(REPEAT CHORUS)

Oh, I have seen too many beds,
But I have known too little rest,
And I have loved too many men
With hatred burning in my breast.
I do not like you or your brother,
I do not like the life I live,
But I am me, I am Aldonza.
And what I give, I choose to give.
One pair of arms is like another
It’s all the same, it’s all the same!

MULETEERS:
Aldonza!

¿Qet desiras’t da mhe?

Original title: What Do You Want Of Me?
Link of video

Talossan translation Original version
ALDONZA:
¿Perqet fäts-o las cosas q’o fäts?
¿Perqet fäts-o acestilor cosas?
¿Perqet martscha-t-o
Trans aceasta reiva q’o isch da din,
Alsetour cün la gloria es tin vell es roviglhat?
¿Perqet viva-t-o in ün mundeu qe non put estarh,
Es qet desira-t-o da mhe…
Qet desira-t-o da mhe?

¿Perqet zía-t-o las cosas q’o zía?
¿Perqet zía-t-o acestilor cosas?
“Dulçinea ducia” es “episal” es tal,
“L’orlat el pü procul da voastra cospertour tochéu”,
Neviens put estarh qet o volt q'estadréu,
Oh, qet desira-t-o da mhe…
¿Qet desira-t-o da mhe?

¿Non säp-o
Q‘o serà burlescat dovesevol o ischadra?
Es perqet non lo burles·chéu…
Éu non säp.

¿Perqet volt-o las cosas q’o volt?
¿Perqet volt-o acestilor cosas?
¿Perqet bata-t-o àls mürs qe non caßarhent?
¿Perqet zona-t-o quand c’e natüral à preindarh?
¿Dove vía-t-o toct el ben q’o put vidarh,
Es qet desira-t-o da mhe?
¿Qet desira-t-o da mhe?
ALDONZA:
Why does he do the things he does?
Why does he do these things?
Why does he march
Through that dream that he's in,
Covered with glory and rusty old tin?
Why does he live in a world that can't be,
And what does he want of me…
What does he want of me?

Why does he say the things he says?
Why does he say these things?
“Sweet Dulcinea” and “missive” and such,
“Nethermost hem of thy garment I touch”,
No one can be what he wants me to be,
Oh, what does he want of me…
What does he want of me?

Doesn't he know
He'll be laughed at wherever he’ll go?
And why I'm not laughing myself…
I don't know.

Why does he want the things he wants?
Why does he want these things?
Why does he batter at walls that won't break?
Why does he give when it's natural to take?
Where does he see all the good he can see,
And what does he want of me?
What does he want of me?

Fugletă, Fugletă

Original title: Little Bird, Little Bird

Talossan translation Original version
ANSELMO ES PEDRO (DOUA TREIXHENOURS):
Fugleta, fugleta,
In l’arvour da cinavon,
Fugleta, fugleta,
¿Cantás’t per mhe?
¿M'apoartás’t el moct
Da viensa qi cogneçéu?
Fugleta, fugleta,
L’améu sa.
Fugleta, fugleta,
Téu à sâparh
Fugleta, fugleta,
Under acest arvour
Acest arvour da cinavon,
Noi ensegnevent àð amarh,
Noi ensegnevent à plörarh;
Cair aicì noi viestretschevent
Es aicì noi baiçevent,
Es aicì viens nic'ht fred sanc clerglüna
Noi despeçevent

ANSELMO:
Fugleta, fugleta,
Oh me pieta-tu
Restornia-la à mhe nun
Under l'arvour da cinavon,
Téu aspeitat tro luegn
Sanc üna canziun.
Fugleta, fugleta,
Perf vola, perf iöt
Fugleta, fugleta,
Es na-la sa.
Fugleta, fugleta.
ANSELMO AND PEDRO (TWO MULETEERS):
Little bird, little bird,
In the cinnamon tree,
Little bird, little bird,
Do you sing for me?
Do you bring me word
Of one I know?
Little bird, little bird,
I love her so,
Little bird, little bird,
I have to know
Little bird, little bird.
Beneath this tree,
This cinnamon tree,
We learned to love,
We learned to cry;
For here we met
And here we kissed,
And here one cold and moonless night
We said goodbye

ANSELMO:
Little bird, little bird,
Oh have pity on me
Bring her back to me now
'Neath the cinnamon tree,
I have waited too long
Without a song.
Little bird, little bird,
Please fly, please go
Little bird, little bird,
And tell her so.
Little bird, little bird.

À cas’cu sieu Dulçinea

Original title: To Each His Dulcinea

Talossan translation Original version
PRESTEIR:
À ca’scu sieu Dulçinea
Qi o soleu put nóminarh…
À ca’scu ‘n repair ascuns
Dov’o put trovarh la faça þantind
Per luminarh sieu fiama secret.

Cair cün sieu Dulçinea
Adelmás o per starh,
‘N vür put façarh bastant ingenc'hosa,
Vola miglhor qe la fugla sür l’ala,
Tent à mha la clerglüna.

Mas schi fraicadrás tu vida sür dals reivas
C’e crioneu à sovenénçarh,
‘N vür cün la clerglüna da din sieu ma
Tent niþil là da toct.

Ja aucün Dulçinea,
A isch facescu dal fiama es l’är,
Es ischù com’ameasca la vhida sembladra
Schi ca’scu vür tißadra ‘n reiva
Per guardarh-lo dal zesperançù.

À ca’scu sieu Dulçinea…
¡Ainda qe a isch niþil salva qe la fiama es l’är!
PADRE:
To each his Dulcinea
That he alone can name…
To each a secret hiding place
Where he can find the haunting face
To light his secret flame.

For with his Dulcinea
Beside him so to stand,
A man can do quite anything,
Outfly the bird upon the wing,
Hold moonlight in his hand.

Yet if you build your life on dreams
It’s prudent to recall,
A man with moonlight in his hand
Has nothing there at all.

There is no Dulcinea,
She’s made of flame and air,
And yet how lovely life would seem
If ev’ry man could weave a dream
To keep him from despair.

To each his Dulcinea…
Though she’s naught but flame and air!

El Capéu Oresc da Mambrino

Original title: Golden Helmet of Mambrino
Link to video

Talossan translation Original version
DOMNUL CHISCHOTE:
Da-me acest capéu oresc!

VARVAR:
Mas, ¡c’e’n scadiala da raçóiçarh!

DOMNUL CHISCHOTE:
¡Scadiala da raçóiçarh! ¿Non säps-tu qet c’e vrätsmint?
¡El Capéu Oresc da Mambrino!
¡Quand c’e apoartat par viens da coraziun noval, ça lo renda
ilaisaval à toct dals saras!
¡En da-me!

Tu Capéu Oresc da Mambrino,
Avetz cacsa paßat inlustrieu,
Tro luegn tu tent estescu pierdat àl gloria,
¡Tu isch reziscovrat nun àl fim!

(CURFA)
Capéu Oresc da Mambrino,
¡Hi non put estarh aucün capéu come thu!
Tu es éu nun, avant qe moaréu nun,
¡Realiçarhent dal þistoria oreasca!

VARVAR:
Éu put auscultarh la cucù canta
In l’arvour da cucubar…

SANCIO:
Schi o zía qe c’e’n capéu,
Suxhestéu q’agreadrás…

VARVAR:
Mas o staxarha qe non c’e d’or
Es non lo cunferarha ni del baldour ni dal ardità…

SANCIO:
Nu, ¡à mhíus o staxarha qe c’e utzil
Schi txamais o neceßadra à raçóiçarh!

DOMNUL CHISCHOTE:
Tu Capéu Oresc da Mambrino,
Tuns tilvercnadours el mundeu non obliarha,
Nun Domnul Chischote dal Mancia
¡T’apoartarha dal gloria qi'st iven pü grült!

(TOCT, CÜN ELS TREIXHENOURS, REPETENT LA CURFA)
DON QUIXOTE:
Hand over that golden helmet!

BARBER:
But this is a shaving basin!

DON QUIXOTE:
Shaving basin! Know thou not what this really is?
The Golden Helmet of Mambrino!
When worn by one of noble heart, it renders
him invulnerable to all wounds!
Hand it over!

Thou Golden Helmet of Mambrino,
With so illustrious a past,
Too long hast thou been lost to glory,
Th’art rediscovered now at last!

(CHORUS)
Golden Helmet of Mambrino
There can be no hat like thee!
Thou and I now, ere I die now,
Will make golden history!

BARBER:
I can hear the cuckoo singing
In the cuckooberry tree…

SANCHO:
If he says that that’s a helmet,
I suggest that you agree…

BARBER:
But he’ll find it is not gold
And will not make him bold and brave…

SANCIO:
Well, at least he’ll find it useful
If he ever needs a shave!

DON QUIXOTE:
Thou Golden Helmet of Mambrino,
Thy deeds the world will not forget,
Now Don Quixote de La Mancha
Will bring thee greater glory yet!

(ALL, WITH MULETEERS, REPEAT CHORUS)

La reiva unpouçival (La reçerça)

Original title: The Impossible Dream (The Quest)
Link to video

Talossan translation Original version
À prunarh la reiva unpouçival
À s·chivarh l’enemíc unvintschaval
À sostirh avetz mairour undemußaval
À coriarh dov’els harþen non desfisent

À tirh drept l’antiert unleidrestaval
Àð amarh pürmint es castamint da procul
Àð atentarh quand tuns brätsilor sint tzaclins
Àð esforçarh l’itrì unattainaval

C’e v’enquesta
À parsequitarh acest itrì
N’importa sa insperada
N’importa sa procul

À kämpfarh per el drept
Sanc fraga eda pausa
À martscharh gradanteir ainciün l’Enceida
Pr’iens stadeu celestial

Es éu säp schi solamint estadréu fidéu
À’ceasta reçerça gloriös
Qe va coraziun respoçarha paxa es caumità
Quand ischéu colocat à va respós

Es el mundeu serà miglhor pr’acest
Qe viens vür, zesdegnat es alsetour cün cretxeux
Resteva strivarh avetz sieu dirnalaiset unça del curatx
Àð esforçarh l’itrì unattainaval
To dream the impossible dream
To fight the unbeatable foe
To bear with unbearable sorrow
To run where the brave dare not go

To right the unrightable wrong
To love pure and chaste from afar
To try when your arms are too weary
To reach the unreachable star

This is my quest
To follow that star
No matter how hopeless
No matter how far

To fight for the right
Without question or pause
To be willing to march into Hell
For a heavenly cause

And I know if I’ll only be true
To this glorious quest
That my heart will lie peaceful and calm
When I’m laid to my rest

And the world will be better for this
That one man, scorned and covered with scars
Still strove with his last ounce of courage
To reach the unreachable star