Paroles et traduction José Larralde - Cosas que pasan

Cosas que pasan

Nadie salió a despedirme
Cuando me fui de la estancia
Solamente el ovejero, un perro nomás,
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 mas 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 aquerenciao,
Nunca conocí otra casa,
Que apegado a las costumbres,
Me hallaba en aquella estancia.
Sí hasta parece mentira,
Mocoso sin sombra e' barba
Que de guricito andaba,
Prendido de mis bombachas.
Por él, le quité a unos teros
Dos pichoncitos, malaya!
Y otra vez, 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 trenzao,
Que gané en una domada,
Pal' santo se lo osequié,
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 eso, pal' finao patrón,
Era cosa delicada.
Y bueno, pa' que acordarme
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 atado que dejara,
Y me rumbié pal' palenque,
Echándome atrás el ala.
Ensillé, gané el camino,
Pegué la ultima mirada
Al monte, al galpón, los bretes,
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 nomás,
Cosas que pasan.

Things That Happen

No one came out to see me off
When I left the ranch,
Only the sheepdog, just a dog,
Things that happen.
The whole thing, a silly matter,
A simple exchange of words,
And the forgetfulness of a brat,
Who I could be a father to.
And me, I don't tolerate fleas,
Despite my ignorance,
I simply asked for my wages,
Without caring about anything.
This wouldn't have happened,
If his father hadn't passed away,
But the bosses die,
And then the sons take charge.
And it seems like a lie,
But it's a marked thing,
That from the same bloodline,
The offspring comes out different.
Thirty years of service,
Meant nothing to the young man,
He forgot a thousand good things,
Because of one that went wrong.
I had grown attached,
Never knew another home,
Attached to the customs,
I found myself on that ranch.
Yes, it even seems like a lie,
A beardless brat
Who as a little boy used to walk around,
Holding onto my gaucho pants.
For him, I took from some lapwings
Two little chicks, damn it!
And another time, I had never climbed down a nest,
And for him, I crawled the branches.
When he became a young man,
I tamed the wild horse for him,
And I handed it to him with reins,
So he could break it in himself.
He had a braided lasso,
That I won in a horse breaking competition,
For his saint's day I gifted it to him,
Since he always admired it.
And the only time the boss,
Gave me a raise,
Was for taking the blame,
For things that would have cost him dearly.
Silly things, things of the countryside,
The gate poorly closed,
And the calves from the corral,
That escape from the houses.
And that, for the deceased boss,
Was a delicate matter.
And well, to remember
A past time,
I said to myself,
All that is worth nothing.
Without looking at each other, we settled,
I put the money in my belt,
I stretched out 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'll need it...
Dragging my feet, I went to the cot,
Picked up a bundle I had left,
And headed for the corral,
Pulling my hat down.
I saddled up, hit the road,
Took one last look
At the mountain, the shed, the pens,
The mill, the watering holes,
From above 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 out to see me off
When I left the ranch,
Only the sheepdog, just a dog,
Things that happen.