Текст и перевод песни Los Bukis - El Pobre Juan

El Pobre Juan

De cara pensativa
Pero retando a la fría vida
Va muy temprano
Para luchar por el pan del día

Ve con indiferencia
Las imprudencias de mucha gente
Pero en su mente tiene presente
Toda su familia

A que pobre Juan
Sus sueños locos a donde irán
En que cantina se quedaran
Tirados con su cansado cuerpo

El pobre Juan
Con todos quiere quedar muy bien
Hace un favor sin mirar a quien
Aunque su espíritu esta casi muerto

Al regresar a casa
Vuelve a pasar lo que siempre pasa
De prisa busca aquella sonrisa
Que ya lo espera

Vuelve a caer cansado
Agradece a Dios que bien ha llegado
Solo la noche sabe los sueños
De ese cualquiera

A que pobre Juan
Sus sueños locos a donde irán
En que cantina se quedaran
Tirados con su cansado cuerpo

El pobre Juan
Con todos quiere quedar muy bien
Hace un favor sin mirar a quien
Aunque su espíritu esta casi muerto

A que pobre Juan
Sus sueños locos a donde irán
En que cantina se quedaran
Tirados con su cansado cuerpo

El pobre Juan
Con todos quiere quedar muy bien
Hace un favor sin mirar a quien
Aunque su espíritu esta casi muerto

A que pobre Juan
Sus sueños locos a donde irán
En que cantina se quedaran
Tirados con su cansado cuerpo

El pobre Juan
Con todos quiere quedar muy bien
Hace un favor sin mirar a quien
Aunque su espíritu esta casi muerto

Poor John

With a thoughtful face,
But defying the cold life,
He goes very early
To fight for the daily bread.

He sees with indifference
The recklessness of many people,
But in his mind he has present
His whole family.

Oh, poor John,
Where will his crazy dreams go?
In which cantina will they be left,
Thrown with his tired body?

Poor John,
He wants to be on good terms with everyone,
He does a favor without looking at whom,
Even though his spirit is almost dead.

Upon returning home,
What always happens happens again,
He hurriedly looks for that smile
That is already waiting for him.

He falls tired again,
He thanks God that he has arrived well,
Only the night knows the dreams
Of that anyone.

Oh, poor John,
Where will his crazy dreams go?
In which cantina will they be left,
Thrown with his tired body?

Poor John,
He wants to be on good terms with everyone,
He does a favor without looking at whom,
Even though his spirit is almost dead.

Oh, poor John,
Where will his crazy dreams go?
In which cantina will they be left,
Thrown with his tired body?

Poor John,
He wants to be on good terms with everyone,
He does a favor without looking at whom,
Even though his spirit is almost dead.

Oh, poor John,
Where will his crazy dreams go?
In which cantina will they be left,
Thrown with his tired body?

Poor John,
He wants to be on good terms with everyone,
He does a favor without looking at whom,
Even though his spirit is almost dead.