Paroles et traduction José Larralde - Garza Víajera

Garza Víajera

Garzas viajeras,
Novias leves del azul,
Con rumbo norte,
Salpicando el cielo van,
Y aquí mi río,
Espejo muestra su vuelo,
Como si fuera un pañuelo,
Que enero lavando está.

Hay un barquito,
Que se hamaca sin cesar,
Varias muchachas,
Navegando por placer.

Y allá a lo lejos,
Canoa de pescadores,
Son signos de sinsabores,
Que distinto atardecer.

Ya ve paisano,
Yo anido entre pajonales,
Pase si gusta,
Compartir necesidades.

Vida de pobre,
De esperanza se sostiene,
Doblando el lomo,
Pa′ que otro doble los bienes.

Bandera al sol,
El lienzo rubio del trigal,
Se mece suave,
En ondas de oro y al volver.

Buchonas grises,
Las torcazas en el río,
Antes de buscar sus nidos,
Van a su cauce a beber.

Hay fiesta arriba,
Allá en la loma del palmar,
Está de cumpleaños,
El hijo del patrón.

Y en un bendito apretao,
Entre totoras,
Aquí abajo llora y llora,
El hijo del hachador.

Ya ve paisano,
Yo anido entre pajonales,
Pase si gusta,
Compartir necesidades.

Vida de pobre,
De esperanza se sostiene,
Doblando el lomo,
Pa' que otro doble los bienes

Traveling Egrets

Traveling egrets,
Light brides of the blue,
Heading north,
They go dotting the sky,
And here's my river,
A mirror for their flight,
Like a handkerchief,
That January is laundering.

There's a little boat,
That rocks gently without stopping,
Several girls,
Sailing for pleasure.

And there, in the distance,
The canoe of fishermen,
They are signs of misfortune,
What a different sunset.

You see, my friend,
I nest among the reeds,
Come in if you like,
To share necessities.

Life of the poor,
Is sustained by hope,
Bending our backs,
So that others may double their wealth.

Flag in the sun,
The golden canvas of the wheat field,
Sways gently,
In waves of gold and back again.

Grey pigeons,
The doves by the river,
Before looking for their nests,
Go to its bed to drink.

There's a party up there,
On the hill of the palm grove,
The boss's son is having a birthday,
The boss's son.

And in a blessedly tight spot,
Among the reeds,
Here below weeps and weeps,
The son of the woodcutter.

You see, my friend,
I nest among the reeds,
Come in if you like,
To share necessities.

Life of the poor,
Is sustained by hope,
Bending our backs,
So that others may double their wealth