Текст и перевод песни Buena Fe - Blues de Guateque

Blues de Guateque

Ya la décima no es una niña
En el campo encerrada,
Ya está repartida en cada rincón
Su esencia montuna.
No sufre ni se embetuna
Bajo el polvo marginal,
Porque su sello rural
Identidad dada en arte,
Sale del campo y comparte
Un Blues, en la capital.
Ni memoria en salto y giro
Ni palabrero a carreta
Juglares, sí. Son poetas
Y a mucha honra guajiros.
Dos orillas de un torrente
Dos alas de una partida
Como frotando la vida
Chispas saltan de dos mentes.
Guajiro, caramba. Anda y devuelvame el alma
Caramba, guajiro. Beso diamante y zafiro.
Guajiro, caray. Me va a llorar la comay.
Caramba, poeta. No se apague
Su cuarteta, no.
No se apague, no.
No se apague, no.
Nunca será suficiente
Saber rimar si no enlaza
Potrero, taller y plaza
Amor, desamor, gente
Vía Láctea y Casiopea
Picardía en buen diseño
Como tejiendo con sueños
Trenzan bellezas e ideas.
Trenzan ideas.
Lo digo yo.
Guajiro Caramba. Bullanguero y burundanga.
Caramba, guajiro. Verso machete con filo.
Guajiro, caray. Me va a llorar la comay.
Caramba, poeta. No se apague su cuarteta,
No.
Nunca. Nunca.
Guajiro, caray. Amigo si hay o no hay.

Blues from Guateque

The décima is no longer a young girl
Locked in the countryside,
Its essence is now spread to every corner
Its rustic essence.
It doesn't suffer or get upset
Under marginal dust,
Because its rural seal
Identity given in art,
It leaves the countryside and shares
A Blues, in the capital.
Not memory in leaps and turns
Nor a talkative cart
Minstrels, yes. They are poets
And with great honor, Guajiros.
Two banks of a torrent
Two wings of a game
As if rubbing life
Sparks fly from two minds.
Guajiro, my goodness. Come on, give me back my soul
My goodness, Guajiro. Kiss of diamond and sapphire.
Guajiro, my goodness. The comay is going to cry for me.
My goodness, poet. Don't let it go out
Your quartet, no.
Don't let it go out, no.
Don't let it go out, no.
It will never be enough
To know how to rhyme if it doesn't connect
Pasture, workshop, and square
Love, heartbreak, people
Milky Way and Cassiopeia
Mischief in a good design
As if weaving with dreams
They braid beauty and ideas.
They braid ideas.
I say so.
Guajiro, my goodness. Noisy and boisterous.
My goodness, Guajiro. Verse machete with an edge.
Guajiro, my goodness. The comay is going to cry for me.
My goodness, poet. Don't let your quartet go out, no.
No.
Never. Never.
Guajiro, my goodness. Friend if there is or there isn't.