Текст и перевод песни Café Quijano - En aquel hotel Jamaicano

En aquel hotel Jamaicano

Lo malo que tiene el pasado
Es que nunca lo puedes negar

Tranquilo entre rastafaris
Y hablando suajili muy raro
Con mi amigo el americano
Abogado recién graduado

Su madre le tiene prohibido
Viajar a ciertos lugares
¡No te montes en los autocares
De Negril hasta Montigo!

Y en el taxi de un jamaicano
Con mucho miedo nos montamos
Se fumaba un cigarro muy largo
Los ojos rojos y casi cerrados

Por la izquierda de la carretera
Por llamarla de alguna manera
Las cabras, palmeras y perros
Se ríen de los extranjeros

Y en aquel hotel jamaicano
Las mujeres van con marido
Los maridos se quedan mirando
Como juegan a lo prohibido

Y en aquel hotel jamaicano
Hay desfile de togas y ramos
Hay detalles de lujo romano
Hay señoras, señores, que visten disfraces
Que sufren deslices que no dejan cicatrices

Al mítico hotel hedonismo
Con los trajes de gala llegamos
Las señoras no tienen vestido
Tienen toga y laureles en ramo

Ciertas cosas no están en los libros
Ni en folletos que venden pasión
Hay sujetos que no se han descrito
Ni siquiera en la imaginación

Y en aquel hotel jamaicano
Las mujeres van con marido
Los maridos se quedan mirando
Como juegan a lo prohibido

Y en aquel hotel jamaicano
Hay desfile de togas y ramos
Hay detalles de lujo romano
Hay señoras, señores, que visten disfraces
Que sufren deslices, que no dejan cicatrices

Y en aquel hotel jamaicano
Las mujeres van con marido
Los maridos se quedan mirando
Como juegan a lo prohibido

Y en aquel hotel jamaicano
Hay desfile de togas y ramos
Hay detalles de lujo romano
Hay señoras, señores, que visten disfraces
Que sufren deslices, que no dejan cicatrices

Los labios, las mentes piensan igual
Se mezclan los placeres
De hombres y de mujeres
Las pieles, las manos se dejan llevar

Y en aquel hotel jamaicano
Las mujeres van con marido
Los maridos se quedan mirando
Como juegan a lo prohibido

Y en aquel hotel jamaicano
Hay desfile de togas y ramos
Hay detalles de lujo romano
Hay señoras, señores, que visten disfraces
Que sufren deslices, que no dejan cicatrices

Y en aquel hotel jamaicano
Las mujeres van con marido
Los maridos se quedan mirando
Como juegan a lo prohibido

Y en aquel hotel jamaicano
Hay desfile de togas y ramos
Hay detalles de lujo romano
Hay señoras, señores, que visten disfraces
Que sufren deslices, que no dejan cicatrices

In that Jamaican Hotel

The bad thing about the past
Is that you can never deny it

Relaxed among Rastafarians
And speaking strange Swahili
With my American friend
A recently graduated lawyer

His mother has forbidden him
To travel to certain places
Don't get on the buses
From Negril to Montigo!

And in a Jamaican taxi
We got in, feeling very scared
He was smoking a very long cigarette
His eyes red and almost closed

On the left side of the road
To call it that somehow
The goats, palm trees and dogs
They laugh at the foreigners

And in that Jamaican hotel
The women come with their husbands
The husbands stand there watching
As they play the forbidden game

And in that Jamaican hotel
There's a parade of togas and bouquets
There are details of Roman luxury
There are ladies and gentlemen wearing costumes
Who suffer slips that leave no scars

To the mythical Hedonism hotel
We arrived in our gala attire
The ladies don't wear dresses
They wear togas and laurel wreaths

Certain things are not in books
Nor in brochures that sell passion
There are subjects that have not been described
Not even in the imagination

And in that Jamaican hotel
The women come with their husbands
The husbands stand there watching
As they play the forbidden game

And in that Jamaican hotel
There's a parade of togas and bouquets
There are details of Roman luxury
There are ladies and gentlemen wearing costumes
Who suffer slips that leave no scars

And in that Jamaican hotel
The women come with their husbands
The husbands stand there watching
As they play the forbidden game

And in that Jamaican hotel
There's a parade of togas and bouquets
There are details of Roman luxury
There are ladies and gentlemen wearing costumes
Who suffer slips that leave no scars

The lips, the minds think alike
The pleasures are mixed
Of men and women
The skins, the hands let themselves go

And in that Jamaican hotel
The women come with their husbands
The husbands stand there watching
As they play the forbidden game

And in that Jamaican hotel
There's a parade of togas and bouquets
There are details of Roman luxury
There are ladies and gentlemen wearing costumes
Who suffer slips that leave no scars

And in that Jamaican hotel
The women come with their husbands
The husbands stand there watching
As they play the forbidden game

And in that Jamaican hotel
There's a parade of togas and bouquets
There are details of Roman luxury
There are ladies and gentlemen wearing costumes
Who suffer slips that leave no scars