El Pintor
Creyendo hacer cosa buena
Un pintor me pinto un día,
Mas me pinto por afuera
Porque adentro no veía.
¿Cuando vendrá ese pintor
Que pinte lo que yo siento?
Ganas de vivir la vida
Sin angustias ni tormentos...
Es mal pintor el pintor
Que me ha pintado ese día,
Cantando coplas serranas
Con la barriga vacía.
Es mal pintor el pintor,
Y en esto no hay duda alguna,
Pues solo pintó mi poncho
Y se olvidó de mi hambruna.
¿Cuando vendrá ese pintor
Que pinte lo que yo siento?
Ganas de vivir la vida
Sin pesares ni tormentos.
Creyendo hacer cosa buena...
The Painter
Thinking I was doing something good
A painter painted me one day,
But he only painted the outside
'Cause he couldn't see the inside.
When will that painter come
To paint what I truly feel?
Desire to live my life
Without worries or pain...
That painter's a bad artist
Who painted me that day,
Singing mountain songs
With an empty belly.
That painter's a bad artist,
And there's no doubt about it,
'Cause he only painted my poncho
And forgot about my hunger.
When will that painter come
To paint what I truly feel?
Desire to live my life
Without sorrows or pain.
Thinking I was doing something good...