Parabién de La Paloma
La paloma se murió
y el palomo no sabía.
Levántate, palomita,
-le decía, le decía-,
nos iremos a casar
apenas se aclare el día.
Qué parabienes tristes
tengo que cantar yo.
La paloma se murió
y el palomo está llorando.
Pobre este palomito,
¿dónde se irá volando?
No habrá luces en la iglesia,
no habrá alegrías ni cantos.
Qué parabienes tristes
tengo que cantar yo.
La paloma se murió,
se murió con un disparo.
Un hombre estaba mirando
con un fusil en la mano.
Se quedaron esperando
en la iglesia, sus hermanos.
Qué parabienes tristes
tengo que cantar yo.
La paloma se murió,
llorando se queda un niño.
El hombre del fusil
no sabe lo que es cariño.
Nunca adentró en un templo,
nunca ha encendido un cirio.
Qué parabienes tristes
tengo que cantar yo.
La paloma se murió,
la mató un hombre cobarde
sabiendo que era inocente;
castiguemos al culpable.
No lo perdona el palomo,
no lo perdona su madre.
Qué parabienes tristes
tengo que cantar yo.
La paloma se murió,
señores aquí presentes.
El hombre vendió el fusil;
siguió causando la muerte
disparando sobre hermanos,
destruyendo continentes.
Qué parabienes tristes
tengo que cantar yo.
Sad News of the Dove
The dove has died
and the dove's mate didn't know.
Get up, little dove,
-I told her, I told her-,
we'll get married
as soon as the day breaks.
What sad news
I have to sing.
The dove has died
and the dove's mate is crying.
Poor little dove,
where will it fly away?
There won't be lights in the church,
there won't be joy or songs.
What sad news
I have to sing.
The dove has died,
died from a gunshot.
A man was watching
with a rifle in hand.
They waited in the church,
his brothers.
What sad news
I have to sing.
The dove has died,
a child is left crying.
The man with the rifle
knows nothing of love.
He never stepped into a temple,
never lit a candle.
What sad news
I have to sing.
The dove has died,
killed by a cowardly man
knowing it was innocent;
let's punish the guilty.
The dove's mate won't forgive,
his mother won't forgive.
What sad news
I have to sing.
The dove has died,
gentlemen present here.
The man sold the rifle;
kept causing death
shooting at brothers,
destroying continents.
What sad news
I have to sing.
Escrita por: Rolando Alarcon