Arcadio Barraza
oy a cantar un corrido señores, a un hombre de buena raza, recordando a un comisiario de Arcadio Barraza.
Era un sábado de gloria, recuerdo, cuando salió de la Chilla, su corazón le avisaba que con vida no volvía.
Francisco López su hijo, le dijo muy triste, dónde te llevo a curar, Culiacán no es Comedero, pa' que te puedas salvar.
Arcadio le contestaba muy lento, yo ya me estoy acabando, llévame pa' la Calera, mi madre me está esperando.
Su madre se consolaba y decía, devisando aquellos cerros, ahí te lo encargo Diocito, te hacía falta allá en el cielo.
En el panteón de la Ilama, se sabe, que ahí su cuerpo descansa, el homenaje se lo hizo, su primo Miguel Barraza.
17 hijos quedaron muy solos, hay dos mujeres de negro, sus familiares y amigos, nunca volverán a verlo.
Arcadio Barraza
I'm gonna sing a ballad, gentlemen, about a man of good lineage, remembering a commissioner from Arcadio Barraza.
It was a glorious Saturday, I remember, when he left La Chilla, his heart warned him that he wouldn't return alive.
Francisco López, his son, said very sadly, where should I take you to get treated, Culiacán is not Comedero, so you can survive.
Arcadio replied very slowly, I'm already fading away, take me to La Calera, my mother is waiting for me.
His mother consoled herself and said, looking at those hills, I entrust him to you, God, you were needed up in heaven.
In the cemetery of La Ilama, it is known, that's where his body rests, the tribute was paid by his cousin Miguel Barraza.
17 children were left very alone, there are two women in black, his relatives and friends, will never see him again.
Escrita por: Miguel Barraza