Текст и перевод песни Los Pasteles Verdes - El Presidario

El Presidario

El Presidiario

(Do Mayor)
Grabado en Lima 1974, Autor: Almar, Arreglos: Hugo Acuña

Voz: Aldo Guibovich, Teclados: Cesar Acuña, Bateria: Ernesto Pozo, Bajo: Miguel Moreno, Guitarras: Hugo Acuña.

Alla en el muelle, por la caleta
Un presidiario, triste yo vi
La madrecita, lo consolaba
Y lo besaba con frenesi.

Era un muchacho noble y honrado
Y una mujer lo fatalizo
Y a muchos vicios que eran prohibidos
Aquel muchacho se dedico.

Era una noche, cuando en un baile
Enloquecido por el licor
A su fiel amigo que el mas queria
Sin un motivo lo asesino.

Lo condenaron a 20 años
Triste miraba hacia la mar
Pensando siempre en esa isla
Donde las penas hiba a pagar.

Llego el barco se oyo el silbato
La pobre madre rompio a llorar
Ay no se lleven a ese hijo mio
Que trabajando yo lo crie.

Aquel muchacho dijo unas frases
Madre no llores no llores mas
Yo soy culpable y lo reconozco
Mas la condena debo pagar.

Y una noche cuando en su celda
Un pajarito vio llegar
Era la madre en forma de ave
Que a su hijo iba a visitar,

Que a su hijo... iba a visitar.

The Prisoner

The Prisoner

(C Major)
Recorded in Lima in 1974, Author: Almar, Arrangement: Hugo Acuña

Vocals: Aldo Guibovich, Keyboards: Cesar Acuña, Drums: Ernesto Pozo, Bass: Miguel Moreno, Guitars: Hugo Acuña.

There at the muelle, by the little port
A prisoner, sad, I saw
His mother, comforted him
And kissed him frantically.

He was a young man, noble and honest
And a woman was his downfall
And to many vices that were forbidden
That young man dedicated himself.

It was one night, when at a dance
Driven mad by liquor
His faithful friend that he loved the most
He killed without motive.

They sentenced him to 20 years
Sadly, he looked out to sea
Always thinking of that island
Where he would pay for his crimes.

The boat arrived, the whistle blew
His poor mother burst into tears
Oh, don't take my son away
For I raised him by working.

That young man said a few words
Mother, don't cry, don't cry anymore
I am guilty and I admit it
But I must pay the sentence.

And one night, when in his cell
He saw a little bird arrive
It was his mother in the form of a bird
Who had come to visit her son,

Who had come to visit her son.