Текст и перевод песни Patxi Andion (F) - El vagabundo

El vagabundo

Un vagabundo va sintiendo fuerte el sol,
Sus ansias de bondad, fundidas en sudor,
Sincero su mirar, cansado su reír,
Nunca supo cantar, ya no sabe mentir.
Un poco de agua y pan quizás le servirán,
Aquietaran su mira, pagarán su andar,
No sueña con triunfar, solo quiere dormir,
Recuerdos de un hogar su mente hacen crujir.
Y un cura un día le habló, le habló de castidad,
De asilos de piedad, de ángeles del mal,
Y el hombre aquel habló, y le habló del dolor,
Y el triste se durmió en un viejo sillón.
Un perro le ignoró en el camino aquel,
Un niño se escondió al pasar junto a el.
Sus trapos sucios son la triste credencial,
Le obligan a bajar la cabeza al pasar.
El recuerdo fugaz, su sola herencia es,
Una fuente de paz sus ojos suelen ser.
La tarde cae ya, los niños duermen ya,
Y el vagabundo va mintiendo su penar.

The Wanderer

A wanderer feels the strong sun,
His desires for kindness are mixed with sweat,
His gaze is sincere, his laughter is tired,
He never knew how to sing, he no longer knows how to lie.
Some water and bread may help him,
They will calm his gaze, they will pay for his wandering,
He does not dream of triumph, he only wants to sleep,
Memories of a home make his mind creak.
And one day a priest spoke to him, he spoke to him of chastity,
Of asylums of pity, of angels of evil,
And that man spoke, and he spoke to him of pain,
And the sad one fell asleep in an old armchair.
A dog ignored him on the way,
A child hid when he passed by.
His dirty rags are his sad credential,
They force him to bow his head as he passes.
Fleeting memory is his only inheritance,
His eyes are often a source of peace.
The afternoon is falling, the children are already sleeping,
And the wanderer goes lying about his sorrow.