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HOME >
CHEO FELICIANO
> LOS ENTIERROS in ENGLISH
Los entierros by Cheo Feliciano (original lyrics)
Familia!
los entierros de mi gente pobre
son un verdadero espectaculo,
sentimiento tu!
En los entierros
de mi pobre gente pobre
las flores son de papel,
las lagrimas son de verdad.
Pues como en otros
funerales de la vida
en donde el llanto es mentira
y ahy mucha flor natural.
Que mas perfume que la lágrima sentida
que indentifica el sufrimiento de la gente
porque las flores ya mañana se marchitan
y el cementerio es un olvido indiferente.
Mi gente pobre siempre vuelve al campo santo
sembrando una flor de llanto con amor y voluntad
las amapolas del cariño verdadero
son el mayor homenaje de mi gente de arrabal.
Coro:
En los entierros de mi pobre gente pobre
cuando se llora es porque se siente de verdad.
Aqui no hay indiferencia
cuando se nos va un amigo
es el cariño sentido,
pero lo damos con entereza
Yo pregunto, te pregunto
de te puede valer un millón
cuando te mueras te lloran con falsedad,
mentiras, mentiras de ese llorón.
Es que son un show
de tremendo cariño
los entierros de mi gente pobre
se ríe y se llora como un niño.
~
En la noche del velorio
entre café y galletitas
de lo que vivió el difunto
pero contamos cosas bonitas.
Pero por eso es que me quedo ya
con mi pobre gente pobre
sencilla flor de papel
y mucho amor de verdad.
y en este último viaje
camino del campo santo
a ese amigo del alma
rumbero! lo acompañamos cantando.
Los entierros de los ricos
lo resuelve un testamento
pero el de mi gente pobre,
oye! derroche de sentimiento.
Los entierros by Cheo Feliciano (Translation in english)
Family! the burials of my poor people They are a true spectacle, feeling you! At funerals from my poor poor people the flowers are made of paper, the tears are real. Well, as in others Funerals of life Where the crying is a lie and a very natural flower. What more perfume than the tear felt that identifies the suffering of the people because the flowers already wither tomorrow and the cemetery is an indifferent forgetting. My poor people always return to the holy field sowing a weeping flower with love and will the poppies of true love They are the greatest tribute of my people in the outskirts. Chorus: In the funerals of my poor poor people when he cries it is because he really feels. Here there is no indifference when a friend is leaving us is the meaning of love, but we give it with integrity I ask, I ask you it can be worth a million when you die you cry with falsehood, lies, lies of that crybaby. It's a show of tremendous love the burials of my poor people He laughs and cries like a child. ~ On the night of the wake between coffee and cookies of what the deceased lived but we tell nice things. But that's why I'm staying with my poor poor people simple paper flower and a lot of real love. and on this last trip holy field road to that soul friend rumbero! we accompany him singing. The burials of the rich it is resolved by a will but that of my poor people, hears! waste of feeling.
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