Текст и перевод песни El Moya - El Pastor Y La Prostituta

El Pastor Y La Prostituta

Viernes en la noche, ya casi las doce y sono un disparo.
Se escuchan pisadas como de quien corre y risas de descaro.
Y al otro lado del anden pasaba un hombre y con biblia en mano viendo aquella escena que no tiene nombre (por favor ayudenos pastor).
Llega a la esquina y pregunta ¿ quien es ella?
Hay que llevarla al hospital no voy a dejar que muera.
La mujer mira al pastor y le dice ¿ que mas da?
Dejenme morir ya no quiero respirar.
El llega a su auto y monto a la prostituta y al pasar ya varias cuadras cae en cuenta y se pregunta.
Dios mio ¿ que hare si alguien me ve?
Debo guardar mi testimonio asi que aqui la dejare.
Sale del hospital disimulado y abrumado, mirando a todos lados y su celular sonando.
Decide contestar y al otro lado recriminan ¡ si pecas en lo oculto tu pecado te incrimina!
El le contesta a aquel hombre que le explique, el porque del comentario pues no entiende lo que dice, te vieron en tu auto junto a una prostituta asi que entrega el ministerio y sigue con lo que tu ocupas.
Yo se que tus caminos no son mis caminos, ni mis pensamientos son tus pensamientos.
No dejes que el momento te quite el aliento, yo estoy en control de lo que esta sucediendo.
Asi que deja que por ti yo decida porque de tu historia soy el libretista y aunque en el momento no tenga sentido yo se exactamente lo que tu nesecitas.
El pastor llega a su cuarto y comienza a reclamar mil cosas al dios del cielo y comienza a gritar.
Perdi mi ministerio por salvar a una cualquiera, perdi lo mas preciado por quien no vale la pena.
No te expreses asi de la que va a ser tu esposa, y ahora para colmo estoy escuchando cosas.
Dijo mi esposa ah?
Una prostituta?
Si, es un alma de salvacion pero no es para mi.
Señor tu sabes que siempre he querido una sierva, que sea casta y pura y creada en una iglesia, pues tu sabes que para ti es que trabajo y aun desde pequeño para ti me he dedicado.
Nunca he besado ni tomado ni me he drogado, no he pisado discotecas y yo nunca he robado, yo creo que al guardarme lo mejor tu me has guardado tu no eres dios injusto alguien se ha equivocado.
Yo se que tus caminos no son mis caminos, ni mis pensamientos son tus pensamientos.
No dejes que el momento te quite el aliento, yo estoy en control de lo que esta sucediendo.
Asi que deja que por ti yo decida porque de tu historia soy el libretista y aunque en el momento no tenga sentido yo se exactamente lo que tu nesecitas.
Equivocado yo?
Tu estas equivocado, apelando a mi justicia ¿ a caso eres abogado?
Yo no suelo ver las cosas como tu las ves.
Mi justicia es verdadera y la tuya no lo es, son dos vidas dos caminos pero con destino y te voy a hacer la historia desde ustedes niños.
En las noches al dormir que tus padres te abrazaban, en ese mismo instante su padre la violaba.
Tu primer dia de escuela fue el suyo en la carcel, su regalo de cumple años, la muerte de su madre.
Mientras rompias tus juguetes porque ya no los querias, ella buscaba en la basura y de ahi comia.
Tu estando en secundaria y ella en la prision, tu graduado de la escuela y ella en depresion.
Y en las noches me gritaba como quien esta de parto, dios mio si tu existes quiero ver tu mano.
Entonces dime tu ¿ quien es el injusto?
Ahora dime tu ¿ que seria justo?
Entonces ¿ que hago yo?
Complacerte un gusto?
O ¿ hacer lo que yo debo para el bien del mundo?
Seria como unir el agua con el fuego, seria como hacer de lo malo bueno.
Porque con ella yo te uno para un plan perfecto, tu eres su regalo de parte del cielo.
Definitivamente dios no ve las cosas como nosotros las vemos, porque a veces creemos que nos merecemos todo por nuestras buenas acciones y creemos que los que han cometido errores no tienen oportunidad de ser redimidos y tener una vida mejor.
Viernes en la noche ya casi las doce y andan de la mano, salen de la iglesia junto a cuatro niños sonrien sin reparos

The Pastor and the Prostitute

Friday night, almost midnight, and a shot rang out.
Footsteps are heard, as if someone is running, and shameless laughter follows.
And on the other side of the platform, a man was passing by, bible in hand, witnessing that scene which has no name (please help us, pastor).
He gets to the corner and asks, "Who is she?"
"We have to take her to the hospital, I'm not going to let her die."
The woman looks at the pastor and says, "What does it matter?"
"Just let me die, I don't want to breathe anymore."
He gets to his car and puts the prostitute in, and after driving for several blocks, he realizes and asks himself:
"My God, what will I do if someone sees me?"
"I must protect my testimony, so I'll leave her here."
He leaves the hospital, disguised and overwhelmed, looking around everywhere, and his cell phone rings.
He decides to answer, and on the other side, they reprimand him, "If you sin in secret, your sin will find you out!"
He replies to that man, asking him to explain the reason for the comment, because he doesn't understand what he means, "They saw you in your car with a prostitute, so hand over the ministry and continue with what you're doing."
"I know that your ways are not my ways, nor are your thoughts my thoughts."
"Don't let the moment take your breath away, I am in control of what is happening."
"So let me decide for you because I am the screenwriter of your story, and even if it doesn't make sense at the moment, I know exactly what you need."
The pastor gets to his room and starts complaining about a thousand things to the God of heaven and starts screaming.
"I lost my ministry for saving a nobody, I lost the most precious thing for someone who's not worth it."
"Don't talk like that about the one who will be your wife, and now, to top it all off, I'm hearing things."
"He said my wife, huh?"
"A prostitute?"
"Yes, she is a soul for salvation, but she is not for me."
"Lord, you know that I've always wanted a servant, who is chaste and pure and raised in a church, because you know that it is for you that I work and even since I was a child I have dedicated myself to you."
"I have never kissed, drunk, or drugged myself, I have not set foot in nightclubs and I have never stolen, I believe that by keeping myself you have kept the best for me, you are not an unjust God, someone has made a mistake."
"I know that your ways are not my ways, nor are your thoughts my thoughts."
"Don't let the moment take your breath away, I am in control of what is happening."
"So let me decide for you because I am the screenwriter of your story, and even if it doesn't make sense at the moment, I know exactly what you need."
"Me, mistaken?"
"You are mistaken, appealing to my justice, are you a lawyer by any chance?"
"I don't usually see things the way you see them."
"My justice is true and yours is not, they are two lives, two paths but with a destiny and I am going to tell you the story from when you were children."
"At night, when you slept and your parents hugged you, at that very moment her father raped her."
"Your first day of school was hers in prison, her birthday present, the death of her mother."
"While you were breaking your toys because you didn't want them anymore, she was looking for food in the garbage and eating from there."
"You being in high school and her in prison, you graduating from school and her in depression."
"And at night she would scream to me as if she were in labor, my God, if you exist, I want to see your hand."
"So tell me, who is the unjust one?"
"Now tell me, what would be just?"
"So what do I do?"
"Indulge a whim?"
"Or do what I must for the good of the world?"
"It would be like joining water with fire, it would be like making bad good."
"Because with her I unite you for a perfect plan, you are her gift from heaven."
Definitely, God does not see things as we see them, because sometimes we believe we deserve everything for our good deeds and we believe that those who have made mistakes do not have the opportunity to be redeemed and have a better life.
Friday night, almost midnight, and they walk hand in hand, leaving the church with four children, smiling without reservation.