Текст и перевод песни Attaque 77 - Callejero

Callejero

Era callejero por derecho propio
Su filosofía de la libertad
Fue ganar la suya sin atar a otros
Y sobre los otros no pasar jamas
Aunque fue de todos nunca tuvo un dueño
Que condicionara su razón de ser
Libre como el viento era nuestro perro
Nuestro y de la calle que lo vio nacer.
Era un callejero con el sol a cuestas
Fiel a su destino y a su parecer
Sin tener horario para hacer la siesta
Y rendirle cuentas al amanecer
Era nuestro perro y era la ternura
Que nos hace falta cada día mas
Era una metáfora de la aventura
Que en el diccionario no se puede hallar.
Era nuestro perro por que lo que amamos
Lo consideramos nuestra propiedad
Y era de los niños y del viejo Pablo
A quien rescataba de su soledad.
Era un callejero y era el personaje
De la puerta abierta en cualquier hogar
Era en nuestro barrio como del paisaje
El sereno, el cura y todos los demás
Era el callejero de las cosas bellas
Y se fue con ellas cuando se marcho
Se bebió de golpe todas las estrellas
Se quedo dormido y ya no despertó.
Nos dejo el espacio como testamento
Lleno de nostalgia, lleno de emoción
Vaga su recuerdo por mis sentimientos
Para derramarlos en esta canción.

Street Dog

He was a street dog by his own right
His philosophy of freedom
Was to earn his own without tying others down
And never to step on others
Although he belonged to everyone, he never had an owner
To condition his reason for being
Free as the wind, our dog was
Ours and the street that saw him born.
He was a street dog with the sun on his back
Faithful to his destiny and his own mind
No set hours for his nap
Or to give an account of himself at sunrise
He was our dog and he was tenderness
Which we need more of every day
He was a metaphor for adventure
That cannot be found in the dictionary.
He was our dog because what we love
We consider our own property
And he belonged to the children and old Pablo
Whom he rescued from his loneliness.
He was a street dog and he was the character
Of the open door in any home
He was in our neighborhood like the landscape
The watchman, the priest, and all the others
He was the street dog of beautiful things
And he took them with him when he left
He drank all the stars in one gulp
He fell asleep and never woke up again.
He left us space as a testament
Full of nostalgia, full of emotion
His memory wanders through my feelings
To pour them out in this song.