Текст и перевод песни Raphael - El cantor

El cantor

Tener que contentar a tanta genteA la hora de cantar una cancionPor miedo a mantenerse, por miedo a mantenerseY a la opinion ligera de un seÑor
No vengo a demostrar nada de nadaSi canto es porque asi lo quiso diosY un dia soy payaso, rey, arlequin o acasoUn majadero romantico soy yo
Que no esta al dia ya mi melodiaEsta no se vende igual que un jabonY no hay un rincon a la concesionYo canto al obrero como al patronAl niÑo, al anciano, al amor... a eso le canto yo
Pero tener que contentar a tanta genteA la hora simple de cantar una cancionPor miedo a mantenerse, por miedo a mantenerseY a la opinion ligera de cualquier seÑor
No vengo a demostrar nada de nadaSi canto es porque asi lo quiso diosY un dia soy un payaso, rey, arlequin o acasoUn majadero romantico soy yo
Que no esta al dia ya mi melodiaEsta no se vende igual que un jabonY no hay un rincon a la concesionYo canto al obrero como al patronAl niÑo, al anciano, al amor... a eso le canto yoY no hay un rincon a la concesionYo canto al obrero como al patronAl niÑo, al anciano, a lo hermoso... a eso le canto yo

The Singer

My dear, you ask me to please everyoneWhen I sing a song, for fear of fading awayFor fear of fading away, and the fickle opinion of some lord
I come not to prove anything at all, my loveIf I sing, it's because God willed it soOne day I'm a clown, a king, a harlequin, or perhapsA romantic fool, it's true
My melody may not be in fashion, my sweetIt doesn't sell like soap, it's trueThere's no place for it in the marketplaceI sing to the worker as well as the bossTo the child, the elderly, to love... that's what I sing about
But having to please so many, my darlingWhen it's simply time to sing a songFor fear of fading away, for fear of fading awayAnd the fickle opinion of any lord
I come not to prove anything at all, my loveIf I sing, it's because God willed it soOne day I'm a clown, a king, a harlequin, or perhapsA romantic fool, it's true
My melody may not be in fashion, my sweetIt doesn't sell like soap, it's trueThere's no place for it in the marketplaceI sing to the worker as well as the bossTo the child, the elderly, to the beautiful... that's what I sing aboutThere's no place for it in the marketplaceI sing to the worker as well as the bossTo the child, the elderly, to the lovely... that's what I sing about