Guitar Lessons - Violin Session 吉他谱

标题: Revista Guitar Class - Li��es
副标题: T�cnica - Violin Session
艺术家: Affonso Junior
专辑: Revista Guitar Class, junho de 2.002, edi��o 17
作者: Affonso Junior
版权: Revista Guitar Class, junho de 2.002, edi��o 17
制谱者: Transcrito para o Guitar Pro 3 em 19/06/2.002
说明:
备注: E a�, pessoal? Espero que estejam gostando das
minhas colunas, e principalmente que elas estejam
ajudando a melhorar a t�cnica de voc�s. Nunca se
esque�am de utilizar o metr�nomo, come�ando os
exerc�cios de forma lenta e aumentando a velocidade
gradativamente, sempre focalizando os estudos na
perfei��o das notas e na divis�o r�tmica. Afinal, a
velocidade s� vir� com o tempo e com muito estudo,
n�o � mesmo?
Na coluna deste m�s separamos um tema baseado em
um trecho das quatro esta��es, de Vivaldi. O
interessante deste tema � a riqueza mel�dica e t�cnica.
Com certeza, ele ficar� muito legal se interpretado da
maneira correta. O tema est� em E menor e�lio, mas no
�ltimo compasso aparece um D# (7� maior),
intencionando E menor harm�nica. Divirtam-se!
Qualquer d�vida, escrevam-me
guitarpiont@ig.com.br

AFFONSO JUNIOR

速度: 120 BPM
音轨: 1
乐器:
小节: 15

歌词

The pupil is twelve, attractive, withdrawn
In a midnight blue school uniform
Lips just a little too full for her face
Distant eyes full of space
In her posture no trace of coquette
No defiance

She fingers the frets looking forlorn
Crossing her legs where her tights have been torn
Starts as her mother comes into the room
And the afternoon grows still
And her mother feels chill
Shivers and buttons her coat

I gently correct the curve of her back
And open her book in the now-empty flat
At the classical piece I've had her prepare
And her arms are bare as she plays
And I draw back behind her ear
A few strands of hair gone astray

She shows me her bracelet, the lesson is done
I turn it around between finger and thumb
We sit face to face and it seems to me that
Her face is the face of a cat
And touching the place where her breasts will be
I press my hand flat

She comes into my lap, I turn her around
Her hands clasp my neck and her feet skim the ground
Her skirt travels up under my palm
But the pupil sits looking so calm
As if listening to the distant sound
Of a burglar alarm

What happened next it's hard to recall
The guitar lesson left no traces at all
Now, from afar, it seems to resemble
A strange composition in oil
Of a man, a guitar, and an innocent little girl