Paroles et traduction José Larralde - Cosas Que Pasan (Esas Cosas Que Pasan)

Cosas Que Pasan (Esas Cosas Que Pasan)

Nadie salió a despedirme cuando me fui de la estancia
Solamente el ovejero, un perro
Cosas que pasan

El asunto, una zoncera
Un simple cambio de palabras
Y el olvido de un mocoso del que puedo ser su tata
Y yo que no aguanto pulgas a pesar de mi ignorancia
Ya no más, pedí las cuentas sin importarme de nada

No hubiera pasado esto si el padre no se marchara
Pero los patrones mueren y después los hijos mandan
Y hasta parece mentira pero es cosa señalada
Que de una sangre pareja salga la cría cambiada

Los treinta años al servicio
Pal′ mozo no fueron nada
Se olvido mil cosas buenas por una que salió mala
Yo me había aquerencia'o
Nunca conocí otra casa
Que apega′o a las costumbres me hallaba en aquella estancia

Sí hasta parece mentira mocoso sin sombra e' barba
Que de gurisito andaba prendido de mis bombachas
Por él, por él le quité a unos teros dos pichoncitos
Malaya
Y otra ve', nunca había bajao un nido y por él gatié las ramas

Cuando ya se hizo muchacho
Yo le amansé el malacara
Y se lo entregué de riendas pa′ que él solo lo enfrenara
Tenía un lazo trenza′o
Que gané en una domada
Pal' santo se lo obsequié, ya que siempre lo admiraba

Y la única vez que el patrón
Me pegó una levantada
Fue por cargarme las culpas
Que a él le hubieran sido caras

Zonceras, cosas del campo
La tranquera mal cerrada
Y el terneraje e′ plantel
Que se sale de las casas
Y esto, pal' fina′o patrón
Era cosa delicada

Y bueno, pa' qué acordarse
De una época pasada
Me dije pa′ mis adentros
Todo eso no vale nada

Sin mirarnos, arreglamos
Metí en el cinto la plata
Le estiré pa' despedirme mi mano
Pa' que apretara

Y me la dejó tendida
Cosa que yo no esperaba
Porque ese mozo no sabe
Si un día ha de hacerle falta

Tranqueando me fui hasta el catre
Alcé un ata′o que dejara
Y rumbié pal′ palenque
Echándome atrás el ala
Ensillé, gané el camino
Pegué la última mirada
Al monte, al galpón, los brete'
El molino, las aguadas

De arriba abrí la tranquera
Eche el pañuelo a la espalda
Por costumbre, prendí un negro
Talonié mi moro Pampa
Y ya me largué al galope
Chiflando como si nada

Nadie salió a despedirme
Cuando me fui de la estancia
Solamente el ovejero, un perro
Cosas que pasan

Things That Happen (Those Things That Happen)

No one came to see me off when I left the ranch,
Only the sheepdog, a loyal friend.
Things that happen, my dear.

The whole thing, a silly misunderstanding,
A simple exchange of words,
And the forgetfulness of a young brat who could be my grandson.
And me, with my pride, despite my lack of education,
I'd had enough, asked for my wages, not caring about anything anymore.

This wouldn't have happened if his father hadn't passed away,
But landowners die, and then their sons take charge.
And it seems like a lie, but it's a well-known fact,
That from the same blood, a different breed can arise.

Thirty years of service,
Meant nothing to the young master.
He forgot a thousand good things for one bad one.
I had grown attached to this place,
Never knew another home.
Bound by habit, I found myself at ease on that ranch.

It seems unbelievable, a beardless brat,
Who as a child used to cling to my trousers.
For him, for him I took two chicks from a lapwing nest.
Crazy, right?
And another time, I had never climbed a tree, but for him, I scaled the branches.

When he became a young man,
I tamed the wild horse for him,
And handed him the reins so he could break it in himself.
I had a braided lasso,
That I won at a rodeo,
I gifted it to him on his saint's day, as he always admired it.

And the only time the old master,
Raised his voice at me,
Was for taking the blame,
For things that would have cost him dearly.

Foolish things, things of the countryside,
The gate left ajar,
And the young calves from the breeding stock,
That escaped from the corrals.
And this, for the refined master,
Was a delicate matter.

But well, why dwell on,
A bygone era?
I said to myself,
All that is worthless now.

Without looking at each other, we settled things,
I tucked the money into my belt,
I extended my hand to say goodbye,
For him to shake.

And he left it hanging,
Something I didn't expect.
Because that young man doesn't know,
If one day he might need my help.

With a heavy heart, I walked to my bunk,
Picked up a bundle I had left there,
And headed for the hitching post,
Pulling my hat down.
I saddled up, hit the road,
Took one last look,
At the hills, the shed, the corrals,
The windmill, the watering holes.

From atop my horse, I opened the gate,
Threw the handkerchief over my shoulder,
Out of habit, I lit a cigarette,
Spurred my Pampa horse.
And I took off at a gallop,
Whistling as if nothing had happened.

No one came to see me off,
When I left the ranch,
Only the sheepdog, a loyal friend.
Things that happen, my dear.