Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Muchacho Pelador, artist - Mercedes Sosa. Album song Mercedes Sosa '76, in the genre Латиноамериканская музыкаDate of issue: 31.12.1975
Record label: Phonogram
Song language: Spanish
Muchacho Pelador(original) |
| Muchacho de la cosecha |
| Que por las manos desechas |
| Se van secando tus brazos |
| Como se seca el bagazo |
| Que tu cuchillo no pele fuerte |
| Porque en el filo anda la muerte |
| Compañeros del rocío |
| Por el camino del frío |
| Con el padre caminando |
| La angustia se va yapando |
| Cuando la escarcha le esté doliendo |
| Se alzará el nombre floreciendo |
| La madrugada ya está |
| Adolfo Aguirre se va a pelar |
| Su juventud en el surco |
| Es como el alma del azúcar |
| Y por las cañas que va cortando |
| Su Tucumán lo está llorando |
| Cuando el cansancio lo gana |
| A eso de media mañana |
| El vientito que le sopla |
| Le va soltando una copla |
| La pena ya no se le hace tanta |
| Si anda una zamba en su garganta |
| Y si la tarde lo alcanza |
| Postergando su esperanza |
| Regresa por los rastrojos |
| Con sudor en los ojos |
| Changuito Aguirre muchacho tierno |
| Florcita en la voz del invierno |
| La madrugada ya está |
| Adolfo Aguirre se va a pelar |
| Su juventud en el surco |
| Es como el alma del azúcar |
| Y por las cañas que va cortando |
| Su Tucumán lo está llorando |
| (translation) |
| harvest boy |
| That by the hands you discard |
| your arms are drying |
| How the bagasse dries |
| That your knife does not peel hard |
| Because death walks on the edge |
| Dew Companions |
| down the cold path |
| With the father walking |
| The anguish is fading away |
| When the frost is hurting |
| Will the name flourish |
| The morning is already |
| Adolfo Aguirre is going to peel |
| His youth of him in the groove |
| It's like the soul of sugar |
| And because of the canes that he cuts |
| His Tucumán of him is crying |
| When tiredness wins |
| Around mid-morning |
| The little wind that blows |
| He drops a couplet |
| The penalty is no longer so much |
| If there is a zamba in your throat |
| And if the afternoon catches up with him |
| Postponing your hope |
| He comes back through the stubble |
| with sweat in the eyes |
| Changuito Aguirre tender boy |
| Little flower in the voice of winter |
| The morning is already |
| Adolfo Aguirre is going to peel |
| His youth of him in the groove |
| It's like the soul of sugar |
| And because of the canes that he cuts |
| His Tucumán of him is crying |