Vamos amarraditos los dos
espumas y terciopelo,
yo con un recrujir de almidón
y tú serio y altanero. We go around tied up, the two of us,
Foam and velvet,
Me with a rustle of starch
And you, serious and haughty
La gente nos mira
con envidia por la calle,
murmuran los vecinos,
los amigos y el alcalde. The people on the streets
Look at us with envy,
The neighbours, friends
And the mayor whisper
Dicen que no se estila ya más
ni mi peinetón ni tu pasador,
dicen que no se estila no, no
ni mi medallón ni tu cinturón. They say that neither my (ornamental) comb
Nor your tiepin are fashionable anymore,
They say that neither my locket
Nor your belt are fashionable anymore, no no
Yo sé que se estilan
tus ojazos y mi orgullo,
cuando voy de tu brazo
por el sol y sin apuro. I know that your amazing eyes
And my pride when I walk on your arm
In the sun and without hurry
Are fashionable
Nos espera nuestro cochero
frente a la iglesia mayor,
y a trotecito lento recorremos el paseo,
tú saludas tocando el ala
de tu sombrero mejor,
y yo agito con donaire mi pañuelo. Our coachman waits for us
In front of the priory church,
And at a slow trot we go all along the avenue,
You greet by touching the rim of your best hat,
While I wave my handkerchief with grace
No se estila ya sé que no se estila,
que te pongas para cenar
jazmines en el ojal... It’s not fashionable, I already know it’s not fashionable
For you to put a jasmine in your buttonhole
At dinner time…
Desde luego parece un juego
pero no hay nada mejor
que ser un señor de aquellos
que vieron mis abuelos. Of course it may seem like a game,
But there’s nothing better
Than being one of those gentlemen
My grandparents used to see
Nos espera nuestro cochero
frente a la iglesia mayor,
y a trotecito lento recorremos el paseo,
tú saludas tocando el ala
de tu sombrero mejor,
y yo agito con donaire mi pañuelo. Our coachman waits for us
In front of the priory church,
And at a slow trot we go all along the avenue,
You greet by touching the rim of your best hat,
While I wave my handkerchief with grace
No se estila ya sé que no se estila,
que te pongas para cenar
jazmines en el ojal... It’s not fashionable, I already know it’s not fashionable
For you to put a jasmine in your buttonhole
At dinner time…
Desde luego parece un juego
pero no hay nada mejor
que ser un señor de aquellos
que fueron mis abuelos. Of course it may seem like a game,
But there’s nothing better
Than being one of those gentlefolk
Like the ones my grandparents were
And the version by Los Morochucos:
Last edited by citlalli; 09-29-2011 at 07:21 AM.
“If cats looked like frogs we'd realize what nasty, cruel little bastards they are. Style. That's what people remember.” ― Terry Pratchett.