Τι να την κάνω τη χαρά (Περγιάλης/Θεοδωράκης) translation by Dack and

Τι να την κάνω τη χαρά 1963
Στίχοι: Νότης Περγιάλης
Μουσική: Μίκης Θεοδωράκης
http://www.stixoi.info/stixoi.php?in...&song_id=12871
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MU77-D9Nh_E

Τι να την κάνω τη χαρά 1963

Καρδιά μου ποιος τη πόρτα σου χτυπά
χτυπάει και εσύ δε βγαίνεις
Ηρθ’ η χαρά κοντά σου μια βραδιά
και εσύ δε κατεβαίνεις

Τι να την κάνω τη χαρά
χαράς τον που την έχει
Να τη σηκώσω στα βουνά
στο κρύο δεν αντέχει,
στο σπιτικό μου είναι στενά
και μέσα μου όλο βρέχει

Την στόλισα στεφάνι στα μαλλιά
και πάω να τραγουδήσω,
μα ο στεναγμός μου πνίγει τη μιλιά
και όλο γυρίζω πίσω

Τι να την κάνω τη χαρά
χαράς τον που την έχει
Να τη σηκώσω στα βουνά
στο κρύο δεν αντέχει,
στο σπιτικό μου είναι στενά
και μέσα μου όλο βρέχει

Notes:

1) The following translation tries to convey the MEANING of the Greek accurately, not necessary the actual Greek sentence structure. But even though the translation changes the Greek sentence structure, it stays pretty faithful to the actual Greek words used in the song.

2) Greek is a very "compact" language - if it takes ten words to say something in English, it may only take three or four words to say the same thing in Greek; so in the following translation, I've chosen to say thing in English a certain way in order to keep each line of the song about as long as it is in Greek.

3) My apologies to anyone who thinks translations should preserve sentence structure more closely than this one does; as I said, Greek and English put thoughts into words very differently, and if you try to follow the Greek sentence structure too carefully, you risk sacrificing the Greek meaning.

4) thanks to Duffy for providing the literal basis for the translation, and also for clarifying some important aspects of the song's meaning.

And what, then, can I do with joy?

Why is your door locked,
my heart? Why did you not
go see who was there, when
pleasure knocked last night?

And what, then, can I do with joy?
In the joyful, joy abides, of course.
But for me, the mountains are too cold
to take her there, and my house
is too small to encompass her,
and inside my heart, it's always raining.

I'd weave a wreath into the tresses
of joy, and I'd sing to her as well.
But my words drown in my sighs,
and I return to who I was.

And what, then, can I do with joy?
In the joyful, joy abides, of course.
But for me, the mountains are too cold
to take her there, and my house
is too small to encompass her,
and inside my heart, it's always raining.