La de La Morral
Hay, ay, ay vieja huarachuda
Pata rajada
Talón agrietado
Presumida
Te pintas el cachete con pedazos de papel de china colorado
Y bienes a presumir de que usas bile
Llegaste el año pasado
Yo te vi llegar descalza
Traías un morral cargando
Cuando venias de tu casa
Ahora andas apantallando
Y alborotando a la raza.
Traías la trenza en la espalda
Con moñitos adornada
Ya te pelaste a navaja
Pareces mulata tusada
Y ahora andas de minifalda
Ya traías la sancha pelada.
Ya ni escuchas el pitido
De mi carro de camotes
Tal vez algún individuo
Te paso pitando en coche
Ya cambiaste el morralito
Por una bolsa de broche.
Ahora que ya traías zapatos
Te volviste removiera
Ya le diste tu retrato
A un hijo de la portera
Pero el no te hecha ni un lazo
Por que eres re callejera.
Cuando fuiste pa´ tu rancho
Dijiste que eras artista
Que ya te habían hecho estrella
En un teatro de revista
Y que un productor te espera
Por que te trae en su lista.
The One with the Backpack
Hey, oh, oh, old sandal-wearing lady
Cracked foot
Split heel
Conceited
You paint your cheek with pieces of red tissue paper
And you come to show off that you wear bile
You arrived last year
I saw you arrive barefoot
Carrying a backpack
When you came from your house
Now you're showing off
And stirring up the crowd
You had a braid on your back
Adorned with little bows
You've shaved with a razor
You look like a used-up mulatto
And now you're wearing a miniskirt
You already had your sancha peeled
You don't even hear the honking
Of my sweet potato car
Maybe some guy
Passed you honking in a car
You already changed the little backpack
For a snap bag
Now that you're wearing shoes
You became a flirt
You already gave your picture
To the porter's son
But he doesn't throw you a rope
Because you're so streetwise
When you went back to your ranch
You said you were an artist
That you had already become a star
In a revue theater
And that a producer is waiting for you
Because he has you on his list.