On smoking and waiting - Fumando Espero

Dear readers, this post is about smoking. If you find the entire idea of smoking distasteful and revolting, please feel free to skip this segment (and corresponding first video) entirely. I haven't smoked in over a dozen years and I almost never miss it. Almost. Truthfully, I don't miss the reality of smoking - the smell, the taste - and certainly the dulling of those senses that the smoking caused. I miss it mostly when I'm trying simply to pass the time. To think about something else. To fill my mind with something other than what (or who) I'm waiting for.

Like Inigo Montoya, I hate waiting . . .
Smoking, while conveniently easing stress, gave me something to do with my hands, other than fidget, and my mouth, other than bitch.

Now, I don't smoke. I carry a pen in my hand almost constantly (even when I have no paper upon which to write a single word) and I pace. Pacing is most gratifying in very high heels or, even better, very high heeled boots. (While twirling a pen between my fingers.)

Not quite the same - but it smells better and won't give me lung cancer.

Which brings me to this. While cruising for yet more tango music, I came across Fumando Espero, which captivated me. Below I've included a video I chose for the sound quality and vocalist, the second, I chose because I liked the tango steps danced to it but the sound quality is not what I'd like. So there you are, two videos. They lyrics are listed below.

This first video reminds me strongly of the Madonna video for "Bad Girl" with Christopher Walken. If you're desperately curious or just really bored, you can find that here.

Smoked too many cigarettes today
I'm not happy, I'm not happy . . this way . . .

Anyway, on to Furando Espero

And now the tango danced to Fumando Espero . . .

Lyrics and music: J. Viladomat y Felix Garzó

Fumar es un placer, genial, sensual...
Fumando espero al hombre que yo quiero,
tras los cristales de alegres ventanales
Y mientras fumo mi vida no consumo
porque flotando el humo me suelo adormecer.

Tendida en mi sofá, fumar y amar,
ver a mi amado feliz y enamorado,
sentir sus labios besar con besos sabios.
Y el devaneo sentir con más deseo,
cuando sus ojos siento sedientos de pasión.

Por eso estando mi bien
es mi fumar un eden.
Dame el humo de tu boca
Dame que en mi,
pasión provoca.
Corre que quiero
enloquecer de placer,
sintiendo ese calor
del humo embriagador
que acaba por prender
la llama ardiente del amor.

La hora de inquietud con él no es cruel
sus espirales son sueños celestiales,
y forman nubes que hacia la gloria suben
y envuelta en ella, su chispa es una estrella,
que luce clara y bella con límpido fulgor.

Translation (by Julia Shaw)

To smoke is a brilliant, sensual delight…
Smoking I wait for the man I love
behind the wide panes of pleasant windows
and as I smoke I consume not life,
tending to sleep in the drifting smoke.

To lie on my sofa, smoke and love
to see my lover happy loving me
to feel his lips kiss with wise kisses
and more keenly desire the affair,
feeling the thirst for passion in his eyes.

When my love is near
smoking is an Eden.
Give me the smoke from your mouth,
give, for it sparks
passion within.
Run to me; I want
to go crazy with pleasure
feeling the heat of
intoxicating smoke
that has just ignited
love's burning flame.

The restless hour is not cruel, with him
his spirals are celestial dreams
forming clouds that ascend into glory
and wrapped in the mist, his spark is a star
shining with beauty clear and bright.

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