Polo
Esta yera la historia
d´ un home mayor
que llamábase Polo
Polo´ l del tambor
Los vecinos pensaben
que taba algo grilláu
y taba ciertamente
llucu abarrenáu
A les cuatro la mañana
subía al correor
y pasaba la nueche
tocando´l so tambor:
Chumba, chumba, chumba da-y fuerte al tambor chumba, chumba, chumba da-y fuerte ¡rediós!
Son sesiones eternes
d´ una hora a dos
taládrate´ l cerebru
cola mesma canción
Sé que nunca tuvisti una oportunidá
pero, per Dios, Polo,
dexa de tocar
Son les cuatro la mañana
y nun duerme ni Dios
ya ta polo con gracia
mayando´ l so tambor:
Chumba, chumba, chumba da-y fuerte al tambor chumba, chumba, chumba hasta que rompa ¡rediós!
Polo
This was the story
of an old man
whose name was Polo
Polo the drummer
The neighbors thought
he was a bit crazy
and he was indeed
a bit out of his mind
At four in the morning
he would go up the hill
and spend the night
drumming his drum:
Boom, boom, boom hit the drum hard boom, boom, boom hit it hard, damn!
Endless sessions
from one to two hours
drilling your brain
with the same song
I know you never had a chance
but, for God's sake, Polo,
stop playing
It's four in the morning
and not even God sleeps
Polo is already
pounding his drum with grace:
Boom, boom, boom hit the drum hard boom, boom, boom until it breaks, damn!