Hi, Coffee Lovers!
I hope you had a good cup of coffee already 😁 I'm happy to participate in this Coffee Contest brought by 
If coffee had an anthem, what do you think it would be?
For this contest, we can share an existing song or write our own. Sometimes, writing is difficult if you have cats. I call it writer's catblock 👇 I did write my coffee anthem, though.
If I had to choose one song to make it a coffee anthem, it'd be "Moliendo café," "Grinding Coffee," (1958)** composed by Venezuelan musician Hugo Blanco or his uncle, Venezuelan musician José Manzo Perroni. To this day, the authorship of the song is still the subject of dispute, but that's a long story.
You can listen to this instrumental version 👇 which is one of my favorites. While you listen to this beautiful interpretation and feel the "ritmo orquídea" ("orchid rhythm," created by Hugo Blanco), you can read the amazing lyrics below; your heart is about to be touched by a coffee angel.
Moliendo café by Hugo Blanco, cover by Guayaba Play on YouTube
Grinding Coffee (1958)
Original
Cuando la tarde languidece
renacen las sombras
y en su quietud los cafetales
vuelven a sentir
esa triste canción de amor
de la vieja molienda,
que en el letargo de la noche
parece gemir.
Una pena de amor, una tristeza,
lleva el sambo Manuel en su amargura;
pasa incansable la noche
moliendo café.
Cuando la tarde languidece
renacen las sombras
y en su quietud los cafetales
vuelven a sentir
esa triste canción de amor
de la vieja molienda,
que en el letargo de la noche
parece gemir.
Una pena de amor, una tristeza,
lleva el sambo Manuel en su amargura;
pasa incansable la noche
moliendo café.
Cuando la tarde languidece
renacen las sombras
y en su quietud los cafetales
vuelven a sentir
esa triste canción de amor
de la vieja molienda,
que en el letargo de la noche
parece gemir.
Que en el letargo de la noche
se deja sentir.
My translation into English
When the afternoon dies away,
shadows are reborn;
and in their quietness, the coffee plantations
can feel again
that sad love song
from the old mill
that in the night lethargy
seems to moan.
Some love regret, some sadness
that sambo Manuel carries in his bitterness.
He tirelessly spends the night
grinding coffee.
When the afternoon dies away,
shadows are reborn;
and in their quietness, the coffee plantations
can feel again
that sad love song
from the old milling
that in the night lethargy
seems to moan.
Some love regret, some sadness
that sambo Manuel carries in his bitterness.
He tirelessly spends the night
grinding coffee.
When the afternoon dies away,
shadows are reborn;
and in their quietness, the coffee plantations
can feel again
that sad love song
from the old milling
that in the night lethargy
seems to moan.
That in the night lethargy
makes you feel.
I'm sure you'll agree it's a beautiful song. Perhaps you're thinking that it's more a love song than a coffee song; however, coffee is about so many things.
It makes me remember Virginia Woolf's "The Mark on the Wall": in the end the mark on the wall was just a snail but all the memories it evokes, all those corridors of the mind and soul that this mark makes you go through before you discover what it really is is what matters in the end. My cup of coffee is my personal mark on the wall. For Hugo, or his uncle, it was sambo Manuel sweating out his love sorrow through hard work in an old coffee mill, a heartfelt and beautiful metaphor for the restlesness that comes from sadness and how a tough man would deal with it. Even today, sixty years later and given the current scenario related to gender issues, I find this topic (fictions) romantically stimulating.
This song reminds us how much can happen behind the coffee beans that make it to our cupboards. I love to think that maybe so many feelings purged in the making of coffee contribute to the mysticism surrounding coffee, a beverage that even those who don't like to drink enjoy smelling.
Famous singers such as Puerto Rican Ismael Rivera (Maelo) and José Feliciano, Mexican ranchera singer Javier Solis and Spanish singers Julio Iglesias and Paco de Lucía have interpreted **"Moliendo café." **You might have seen soccer fans chanting this tune, which they call "Dale Boca" or "Dale Cavese," which was popularized by the Boca Junior musical band. I'm telling you, this is an incredible song.
I think "Moliendo café" deserves to become a coffee anthem, although in a way it already is.
My Coffee Anthem
Sometimes, coffee is all about relativity. The quality can weigh more or less than the feelings that surround a cup of coffee, depending on the circumstances. I mean, I’ve had a lovely chat over terrible coffee, and it makes my day anyway.
Each of us has their own peculiar way of connecting with coffee. Here's how I've connected with coffee today, after my cat let me finish writing:
Bring All the Mugs!
Bring all the mugs and tiny cups;
we need our coffees served!
For our modest tune-ups,
our pleasure’s well deserved!
You’re good to me when loves are born,
and when they say good-bye.
You comfort me on early morns
and when the sun’s gone by.
Oh, sacred blends of jolly beans,
we roast and grind and brew
in modern and antique machines
our sips of finest dew!
Revitalize our steps to walk
straight to a better day,
and when we’re tired to smile or talk,
show us your frothy play.
Bring all the mugs and tiny cups;
we need our coffees served!
For our modest tune-ups,
our pleasure’s well deserved!
Baristas work sweet wonders
that make us all come back,
though if you check the numbers,
most drink our coffee black!
Bring all the mugs and tiny cups;
we need our coffees served!
For our finest tune-ups,
our pleasure’s well deserved!
(Bis--Sip your coffee and repeat.)
For me, coffee is home, familiarity, the joy of sharing with those we love, but it's also that warmth that comforts me when I'm alone with my thoughts. Yes, it's very much about feeling comforted.
I have composed a simple hymn, with a basic structure: four-line stanzas with iambic tetrameters alternating with iambic trimeters, as is customary in hymns. Both the topic (coffee as a happy event) and the language are simple and unpretentious. I've tried to give it a cheerful tone, almost celebratory, and I've done so from the simplicity of a taste for coffee that I know many of us share. It could not be otherwise given my personal tradition with coffee: we're casual.
In our homes, the amount of coffee in our cup can be compared to our mornings: sometimes our morning lasts seven hours if you’re an early bird, but sometimes, only two if we woke up at 10 a.m. Here in Venezuela, a cup of coffee can contain 40, 80, or 100 ml; or 150 ml milliliters at my kitchen table 😁 You won't find a single demitasse in my kitchen.
This coffee came out too strong (“el café me quedó cerrero”), or this coffee is just scared water (“el café me quedó clarito”) are common expressions in any home in my country.
For many, there’s not such a thing as coffee going stale, or golden rules, just coffee. But let me tell you, 99% of the times they’ll tell you when your coffee is just great: What delicious coffee! (“¡Qué rico te quedó este café!”). They want to be sure you'll invite them over for another cup another day.
Here in my town, hot and sunny as it is, they will offer you a cup of coffee rather than a glass of water.
Thank you so much for your visit :)
All text and images are my own. I have taken the pictures with my Redmi 9T cell phone. And if any GIFs here, I've used GIPHY for all them.
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