Song lyrics translated to english, spanish, portuguese,... song meanings, lyrics translation
Top Lyrics
Artists
>
Song Lyric
Arabic
Chinese
Dutch
English
French
German
Italian
Japanese
Polish
Portuguese
Romanian
Russian
Spanish
Find any song lyrics translated into English, Spanish, French and other languages! Song meanings, Translation of lyrics
Artists:
A
B
C
D
E
F
G
H
I
J
K
L
M
N
O
P
Q
R
S
T
U
V
W
X
Y
Z
0
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
HOME >
JOAQUíN SABINA
> CANCIóN PARA LAS MANOS DE UN SOLDADO in ENGLISH
Canción para las manos de un soldado by Joaquín Sabina (original lyrics)
El labrador de mi pueblo
lleva una azada en la mano
que grandes tiene las manos
el labrador de mi pueblo
cavando de sol a sol
con lluvia, nieve o calor.
El parado de mi pueblo
llena de angustia sus manos
que tristes tiene las manos
el parado de mi pueblo
dando vueltas a la noria
sin jornal y sin historia.
El alcalde de mi pueblo
lleva un bastón en las manos
que finas tiene las manos
el alcalde de mi pueblo
con su orgulloso bastón
preside la procesión.
El obrero de mi pueblo
no está en mi pueblo
ha emigrado,
sus manos amasan pan
para otros pueblos lejanos,
que lejos están las manos
del obrero de mi pueblo.
El soldado de mi pueblo
antes ha sido albañil
ahora ya no tiene pala
lleva en la mano un fusil
que frías tiene las manos
alrededor del fusil.
El cacique de mi pueblo
no vive tampoco allí
con el sudor de mi pueblo
se compró un piso en Madrid
con lo que su mano tira
cuántos podrían vivir.
Soldado, si alguna vez,
el labrador de mi pueblo
se levanta, y el obrero
se levanta, y el parado
¿qué vas ha haces tu soldado
que antes has sido albañil?
¿qué vas ha hacer con tus manos
y tu fusil.
Canción para las manos de un soldado by Joaquín Sabina (Translation in english)
The farmer of my village carries a hoe in his hand how big your hands are the farmer of my village digging from sun to sun with rain, snow or heat. The unemployed of my people full of anguish his hands how sad he has his hands the unemployed of my people circling the ferris wheel without wages and without history. The mayor of my town he carries a cane in his hands how fine your hands are the mayor of my town with his proud cane presides over the procession. The worker of my people he is not in my town He has emigrated, his hands knead bread for other distant towns, how far are the hands of the worker of my town. The soldier of my town before he was a bricklayer now he does not have shovel he has a rifle in his hand how cold is his hands around the rifle. The cacique of my people he does not live there either with the sweat of my people he bought a flat in Madrid with what your hand pulls how many could live Soldier, if ever, the farmer of my village he gets up, and the worker gets up, and the unemployed What are you doing your soldier that you were a bricklayer before? What are you going to do with your hands and your rifle.
Translatelyrics.net
- Copyright 2024 - Lyrics translation from-to English and other languages
Contact
Privacy Policy
We recommend:
Letras en español
English Check