Текст и перевод песни Mister Chivo - Ramito de Violetas

Ramito de Violetas

Era feliz en su matrimonio
Aunque su marido era el mismo demonio
Tenía el hombre un poco de mal genio
Ella se quejaba de que nunca fue tierno
Desde hace ya más de tres años
Recibe cartas de un extraño
Cartas llenas de poesía
Que le han devuelto la alegría

¿Quién te escribía a ti versos? Dime niña, ¿quién era?
¿Quién te mandaba flores en primavera?
Con amor las recibías, como siempre sin tarjeta
Te mandaba a ti un ramito de violetas

A veces sueña, a veces se imagina
Cómo será aquel que a ella tanto la estima
¿Será más bien hombre de pelo cano?
Sonrisa abierta y de ternura en sus manos
¿Quién será quien sufre en silencio?
¿Quién puede ser su amor secreto?
Ella que no sabe nada
Mira a su marido y luego se calla

¿Quién te escribía a ti versos? Dime niña, ¿quién era?
¿Quién te mandaba flores en primavera?
Con amor las recibías, como siempre sin tarjeta
Te mandaba a ti un ramito de violetas

Cada tarda al volver su esposo
Cansado del trabajo, va y la mira de reojo
No dice nada porque él lo sabe todo
Ella es así, feliz de cualquier modo
Porque él es quien le escribe versos
Él es su amante, su amor secreto
Ella que no sabe nada
Mira a su marido y luego se calla

¿Quién te escribía a ti versos? Dime niña, ¿quién era?
¿Quién te mandaba flores en primavera?
Con amor las recibías, como siempre sin tarjeta
Te mandaba a ti un ramito de violetas

¿Quién te escribía a ti versos? Dime niña, ¿quién era?
¿Quién te mandaba flores en primavera?
Con amor las recibías, como siempre sin tarjeta
Te mandaba a ti un ramito de violetas

Ramito de Violetas

I was happy in my marriage
Even though my husband was a devil incarnate
The man had a bit of a temper
She complained that he was never tender
For more than three years now
She has been receiving letters from a stranger
Letters full of poetry
That have brought her joy again

Who was writing you verses? Tell me, my darling, who was it?
Who was sending you flowers in springtime?
You would receive them with love, as always without a card
He would send you a small bouquet of violets

Sometimes she dreams, sometimes she imagines
What the man who loves her so much must be like
Perhaps an elderly man with gray hair?
With a warm smile and gentle hands
Who could be the one suffering in silence?
Who could be your secret love?
She who knows nothing
Looks at her husband and then remains silent

Who was writing you verses? Tell me, my darling, who was it?
Who was sending you flowers in springtime?
You would receive them with love, as always without a card
He would send you a small bouquet of violets

Every afternoon when her husband returns
Tired from work, he looks at her askance
He says nothing because he knows everything
She is like that, happy in any way
Because he is the one who writes her verses
He is her lover, her secret love
She who knows nothing
Looks at her husband and then remains silent

Who was writing you verses? Tell me, my darling, who was it?
Who was sending you flowers in springtime?
You would receive them with love, as always without a card
He would send you a small bouquet of violets

Who was writing you verses? Tell me, my darling, who was it?
Who was sending you flowers in springtime?
You would receive them with love, as always without a card
He would send you a small bouquet of violets