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RUBEN BLADES
> LAS CALLES in ENGLISH
Las calles by Ruben Blades (original lyrics)
Las calles de nuestros barrios nuncan toman prisioneros
quiebran al que no resiste sea local o sea extranejero
ay la paciencia no existe con los que son majaderos
cada victima es culpable, si cayo por traicionero.
Que paso con esos guapos que alardeaban con su vida
terminaron desonrando el honor de nuestra esquina
ni siquiera el sobrenombre, sobrevive en la avenida
le quitaron los colmillos, el collar y la leontina.
Son paginas estas calles que se cogen con los años
escritas en un idioma que no entienden los extraños
nacimos de muchas madres pero aqui solo hay hermanos
en mi calleeeeeeee . . .
la vida y la muerte bailan con la cerveza en la mano
Soy de aqui de los que sobrevivieron
soy de aqui . . .
yo soy esa esquina chiquita bonita bendita, de los que nunca se fueron
soy de alli de los que sobrevivieron
de los que que enfrentando la adversidad
cogieron herida y golpe en cantidad y no se rindieron
soy de alli de los que sobrevivieron
comiendo arroz blanco con porck and beans
en plato hondo y ancho y con cuchara y bien frito el huevo
soy de alli de los que sobrevivieron
alma de poeta, abrazos de amantes, piernas de calles y lujos de hielo
soy de alli de los que sobrevivieron
a puro corazon me fui de Panamá a colon caminando con maelo
pa llegar a portobelo y saludar al nazareno
soy de alli de los que sobrevivieron
yo soy el hijo de Anolan y a pie sin coche
sobrevivi de dia, sobrevivi la noche
soy de aqui de los que sobrevivieron
yo soy de alli, yo soy de alli tu sabes que si
Letra por: Alberto Martinez (Panameño)
Las calles by Ruben Blades (Translation in english)
The streets of our nuncan neighborhoods take prisoners they break the one who does not resist, whether local or foreign And patience does not exist with those who are foolish Each victim is guilty, if he fell for treacherous. What happened to those handsome men who boasted with their lives they ended up honoring the honor of our corner not even the nickname, survives on the avenue his fangs, collar and watchband were removed. These streets are pages that are taken with the years written in a language that strangers do not understand we were born of many mothers but here there are only brothers in my calleeeeeeee. . . life and death dance with beer in hand I am from here of those who survived I am from here . . . I am that pretty little corner blessed, of those who never left I am from there of those who survived of those who facing adversity they took wound and blow in quantity and did not surrender I am from there of those who survived eating white rice with porck and beans in deep dish and wide and with spoon and well fried the egg I am from there of those who survived soul of a poet, hugs of lovers, legs of streets and luxuries of ice I am from there of those who survived I left Panama with a pure heart. to colon walking with maelo to get to portobelo and say hello to the Nazarene I am from there of those who survived I am the son of Anolan and on foot without a car I survived by day, survived the night I am from here of those who survived I am from there, I am from there, you know that if Letter by: Alberto Martinez (Paname? O)
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