A long time ago, I asked myself;
Where could I find the explanation why?
beauty of any are
It will be the case the three, maybe the bongo, the güiro, the key,
the choir, the drum
Or maybe it will be improvisation
What is it that makes a son so beautiful?
I have not found yet, an explanation
The definition seems to me:
'It will depend on the feeling of everyone who hears a son;'
In the eyes of the mother that I want
There is the beauty of my son
Hear in the flowers of the corduroy field and its color
There is the beauty of my son
In the rumba, in the rumba that, in the rumba that humbles
in an alleyway
There is the beauty of my son
Roberto Roena, when he hits the new little machine that
it has to sound like a bongo
There is the beauty of my son
bururu barara where goes Miguel I go
There is the beauty of my son
In Valentin's Bass and the bell in combination
There is the beauty of my son
In the times he copied me singing from Cheo Feliciano my Pana
There is the beauty of my son
EE In the 'quiquin quiquin' of the bell
There is the beauty of my son
In the eyes of the female that I want
There is the beauty of my son
In space, sing space in the space of the imagination
There is the beauty of my son
In the collective soul of Puerto Rico as a nation
There is the beauty of my son
At the base of Vieques and its reason
There is the beauty of my son
The chorus that is heard from the roof
There is the beauty of my son
He says corduroy: I like that jeba, although it is very ugly
There is the beauty of my son
bururu barara Valentín hay Dios
There is the beauty of my son
In the feeling that is given without pretention
There is the beauty of my son
In the fiery gaze of a dancer
There is the beauty of my son
In the hand of a grandmother who offers love
There is the beauty of my son
The Rich Beauty that says The Son Are
There is the beauty of my son
Up Puerto Rico and Panama .... ome
Celebrating Bobby Valentín
Of me they are
The hand of a friend and his compassion
Of me they are
in the quiet and hurry in the corner
Of me they are
In each soneo the improvisation
Of me they are
inside the soul my heart
This is pa ?? all of you guys
And pa ?? all of us
Because there is a lot of prison
There's a lot of prisoner compadre
He will only be free, he who has an open soul
He who does not close the door, to his own humanity
The one who seeks the truth and creates his own destiny
He who straightens the road, at will
No matter where you are, or how hard your life is
There is always an exit, pal that lives with dignity.
It is a simple truth, that today I share with you
'That even between four walls, The Soul lives in Freedom'
Only among all we can make this a better place :)