Текст и перевод песни Franco Bianco - Un Kolla

Un Kolla

No te rías de un colla que bajó del cerro,
Que dejó sus cabras, sus ovejas tiernas, sus habales yertos;
No te rías de un colla, si lo ves callado,
Si lo ves zopenco, si lo ves dormido

No sobres al colla,
Si un día de sol lo ves caminando
Con ropa de lana, transpirando entero

Ten presente amigo, que él vino del cerro, donde hay mucho frío,
Donde el viento helado rajeteó sus manos y partió sus callos

No sobres al colla, si al cruzar la calle
Lo ves correteando igual que una llama,
Igual que un guanaco,
Asustao el runa como asno bien chúcaro,
Poncho con sombrero, debajo del brazo

No te rías de un colla, si lo ves comiendo
Su mote cocido, su carne de avío,
Allá, en una plaza, sobre la vereda, o allá en el río;
Menos si lo ves coquiando por su Pachamama

Él bajó del cerro a vender su lana, a vender sus cueros,
A llevar su harina; a buscar su azúcar
Y es tan precavido, que trajo su plata,
Y hasta su comida, y no te pide nada

No te rías de un colla que está en la frontera
Pa'l lao de La Quiaca o allá en las alturas del Abra del Zenta;
Ten presente, amigo, que él será el primero en parar las patas
Cuando alguien se atreva a violar la Patria

No te rías de un collacito, que si vas pa'l cerro,
Te abrirá las puertas de su triste casa,
Te dará su chicha, te dará su poncho, y junto a sus guaguas,
Comerás un tulpo y a cambio de nada

No te rías de un colla que busca el silencio,
Que en medio de lajas cultiva sus habas
Y allá, en las alturas, en donde no hay nada,
¡así sobrevive con su Pachamama!

Gracias

Pachamama

Y allá, en las alturas, en donde no hay nada

Y no te pide nada

Un Kolla

Do not laugh at a colla who came down from the hill,
Who left his goats, his tender sheep, his deserted habales;
Do not laugh at a colla, if you see him silent,
If you see him foolish, if you see him asleep

Do not be amazed at the colla,
If one sunny day you see him walking
In woolen clothes, sweating all over

Bear in mind, friend, that he came from the hill, where it is very cold,
Where the icy wind has chapped his hands and split his calluses

Do not be amazed at the colla, if when crossing the street
You see him running like a llama,
Like a guanaco,
The runa scared like a wild donkey,
Poncho with hat, under his arm

Do not laugh at a colla, if you see him eating
His cooked mote, his game meat,
There, in a plaza, on the sidewalk, or there by the river;
Even less if you see him offering his Pachamama

He came down from the hill to sell his wool, to sell his hides,
To take his flour; to find his sugar
And he is so cautious, that he brought his money,
And even his food, and he doesn't ask you for anything

Do not laugh at a colla who is on the border
Towards La Quiaca or up in the heights of Abra del Zenta;
Bear in mind, friend, that he will be the first to stop the paws
When someone dares to violate the Homeland

Do not laugh at a little collacito, that if you go up to the hill,
He will open the doors of his sad house for you,
He will give you his chicha, he will give you his poncho, and together with his guaguas,
You will eat a tulpo for nothing in return

Do not laugh at a colla who seeks silence,
Who cultivates his fava beans amidst the stone slabs
And there, in the heights, where there is nothing,
Thus he survives with his Pachamama!

Thank you

Pachamama

And there, in the heights, where there is nothing

And he doesn't ask you for anything