Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song El Poeta, artist - Atahualpa Yupanqui.
Date of issue: 23.10.2019
Song language: Spanish
El Poeta(original) |
Los viejos cobres del monte |
Otoño sembrando van |
Y en las guitarras del campo |
Ya nacen las coplas de la soledad |
Y en las guitarras del campo |
Ya nacen las coplas de la soledad |
Emponchan los manantiales |
El viento norte al pasar |
Y allá en los huaicos del cerro |
Se queman los ecos de aquel carnaval |
Y allá en los huaicos del cerro |
Se queman los ecos de aquel carnaval |
Con el lucero del alba |
Las cuestas repecharé |
Ya están los gallos cantando |
Se me hace vidita que no he’I de volver |
Adiós mis cerros queridos |
Mis piedras pintadas |
Ya no he’I de volver |
Estrellas que me alumbraron |
Caminos que caminé |
Me han golpiao todos los vientos |
Heridos de coplas la vida pasé |
Me han golpiao todos los vientos |
Heridos de coplas la vida pasé |
En una cueva del cerro |
Escondí mi corazón |
Pa' que lo quiero conmigo |
Si solo me ha dado trabajo y rigor |
Pa' que lo quiero conmigo |
Si solo me ha dado trabajo y rigor |
Con el lucero del alba |
Las cuestas repecharé |
Ya están los gallos cantando |
Se me hace vidita que no he’I de volver |
Adiós mis cerros queridos |
Mis piedras pintadas |
Ya no he’I de volver |
(translation) |
The old coppers of the mountain |
fall sowing van |
And in the field guitars |
The couplets of loneliness are already born |
And in the field guitars |
The couplets of loneliness are already born |
They pump the springs |
The north wind passing |
And there in the huaicos of the hill |
The echoes of that carnival are burned |
And there in the huaicos of the hill |
The echoes of that carnival are burned |
with the morning star |
I will repeat the slopes |
The roosters are already singing |
It makes me feel like I haven't come back |
Goodbye my beloved hills |
my painted stones |
I no longer have to return |
stars that illuminated me |
roads i walked |
All the winds have hit me |
Wounded by coplas, I spent my life |
All the winds have hit me |
Wounded by coplas, I spent my life |
In a cave on the hill |
I hid my heart |
So I want it with me |
If only it has given me work and rigor |
So I want it with me |
If only it has given me work and rigor |
with the morning star |
I will repeat the slopes |
The roosters are already singing |
It makes me feel like I haven't come back |
Goodbye my beloved hills |
my painted stones |
I no longer have to return |