Pobre Bohemio
Has que suena la lira mi hermano
Has que lloren las cuerdas sus quejas
Acompaña mi llanto paisano
Porque voy a contar de mis penas
Este pobre bohemio que miran
Trovador de cantina en cantina
Que con llanto te cuenta sus cuitas
Que llorando te cuenta su vida
Muchas hembras tuve en mi camino
El dinero corrió por mis manos
Mas de pronto cambio mi destino
Y al momento me vi abandonado
El dinero y las hembras no es nada
No me duele el haberlo perdido
Lo que si me lastima en el alma
Ver dejado mi pueblo querido
Una tarde lluviosa de junio
A mi casa feliz regresaba
A mis padres encontré en la tumba
Y ami novia la encontré casada
Comprendí que era falso en la vida
Con dinero se compra y se paga
Nunca tuve un cariño sincero
Y por eso mi es amarga
Y por eso te digo paisano
Trovador de cantina en cantina
Así pienso pasarme los años
Y por coplas contar de vida
Poor Bohemian
Strum the lyre, my brother
Make the strings cry out their complaints
Accompany my tears, countryman
Because I'm going to tell you about my sorrows
This poor bohemian they see
Troubadour from bar to bar
Who tells you his troubles with tears
Who tells you his life crying
Many women I had in my path
Money flowed through my hands
But suddenly my fate changed
And in an instant I found myself abandoned
Money and women mean nothing
I don't hurt for having lost them
What hurts my soul
Is seeing my beloved town left behind
One rainy June afternoon
I returned happily to my home
I found my parents in the grave
And my girlfriend I found married
I understood that life is false
With money you buy and pay
I never had a sincere love
And that's why my soul is bitter
And that's why I tell you, countryman
Troubadour from bar to bar
That's how I plan to spend the years
And through verses tell about life