Lyrics of Pobre Bohemio - La Dinastia De Tuzantla, Mich.

Pobre Bohemio (original)

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

(translation)

Make the lyre sound my brother
Make the strings cry their complaints
Accompany my countryman crying
Because I will tell of my sorrows
This poor bohemian that they look at
Canteen troubadour in canteen
That with tears he tells you his troubles
that crying tells you his life
Many females I had on my way
The money ran through my hands
But suddenly my destiny changed
And at the moment I saw myself abandoned
Money and females is nothing
It doesn't hurt me to have lost it
What if it hurts me in the soul
See left my dear people
A rainy afternoon in June
I returned to my happy home
I found my parents in the grave
And I found my girlfriend married
I understood that I was false in life
With money you buy and pay
I never had a sincere affection
And that's why my is bitter
And that's why I call you countryman
Canteen troubadour in canteen
This is how I plan to spend the years
And by couplets tell of life