Por Haití - Frank Delgado перевод на английский

Por Haití

Yo esperaba en la terraza
Que saliera de su casa
Para empezar a morir
Y resucitar airado
Al ver al afortunado
Que podía estar allí.
Me dije: crece
Que esa muchacha a ti no te merece
Que tú eres un poeta de salir.
Pero yo la perseguía
Me iba a la confitería
Donde empieza su desliz
Para comprobar Carlitos
Que le gustan los flaquitos
De apariencia de lombriz.
Qué boba eres
Si sólo te acuestas con alfileres,
No sabrás lo que guardo para ti.
Corazones inasibles e insensibles
Que no entienden mis mensajes,
Mis correos combustibles
E infalibles.
Que me pierdo ante tus ojos
Que en tu barrio hay un despojo
Que a veces te guiña el ojo
En los matojos.
Me pillaste sin camisa
Y aunque aguantaste la risa
Allí mismo me morí
Y no por ser enterrado
Cerca de tu árbol sagrado
Me tuve que ir del país.
Y aquí me tienes
Recibiendo corriente por la sienes
En este manicomio de París.
Me pillaste sin camisa
Y aunque aguantaste la risa
Allí mismo me morí
Y no por ser enterrado
Cerca de tu árbol sagrado
Me tuve que ir del país.
Y aquí me tienes
Haciendo murumacas en los trenes
Sufriendo tu desidia por Haití.

Por Haití

I was waiting on the terrace
For her to leave her house
To start to die
And be resurrected with anger
When I saw the lucky man
Who could be there.
I said to myself: grow up
That girl doesn't deserve you
That you are a poet who has to leave.
But I kept pursuing her
I went to the pastry shop
Where her slip begins
To prove Carlitos
That she likes skinny guys
Who look like worms.
How silly you are
If you only sleep with safety pins
You won't know what I have in store for you.
Intangible and insensitive hearts
That don't understand my messages,
My combustible and
Infallible emails.
That I'm lost in your eyes
That in your neighborhood there's a wreck
That sometimes winks at you
In the bushes.
You caught me without a shirt
And although you held back your laughter
Right there I died
And not because I was buried
Near your sacred tree
I had to leave the country.
And here I am
Getting electrocuted at the temples
In this madhouse in Paris.
You caught me without a shirt
And although you held back your laughter
Right there I died
And not because I was buried
Near your sacred tree
I had to leave the country.
And here I am
Haciendo murumacas in the trains
Suffering your apathy for Haiti.