Translation of the song lyrics Atrevido - Orishas

Atrevido (original)

-Coro-
Eso te paso por no saber que todo tiene su precio atrevido,
Eso te paso por no saber, atrevido…
Eso te paso por no saber que todo tiene su precio atrevido,
Eso te paso por no saber, atrevido…
Hey, na’na', comenzare yo a relatarles este historino este ada'.
Leyenda que contaba chulo viejo de barrio en barrio. Boca a boca.
En la calsada a los oidos del cual lo sobre llenaba. (ha ha)
Habia una vez, una pareja de provistas poca vista sin dinero.
Pensando atomico, tonico, cronico como vivir.
Salir del negro fango que lo augaba. Traumaban daban entre besos
una camara filente. Para un estupido, tupido cliente.
Que le dijo el punto mira se las daba. Estaban ya va vijilando a la criolla de calmada.
(Coro)
No, y el punto se tiro de hill. A buscarle al agua herida vida.
Penso que el agua gira mira. Era mas bruta que una mula loma arriba.
(demonio de tal manera)
Que, que, que, que esta historia hecha candela, te la voy a hacer
bien rebe’para que no te me aselere. Oiste asere?
todo lo que ella pedia, el punto la complacia, y escucha lo que le decia Todo lo que le pedia, (eh?) el punto se la gastaba
Oh, una linda habitacion en el Poilla, El punto se la gastaba
Hay, un vestido para el.(hay un vestido para el) Pa’mi, si pa’mi…
El punto se la gastaba Siiii…
Queria ir a la playa. El punto se la gastaba
Y a la cuenta no le daba, no le daba. El punto se la gastaba
Al concierto con Orishas a basilar. El punto se la gastaba
tumturum.
(Coro)
Pepe al chulo le toca (toca). Poner sus fotas (rotas)
Romper la puerta (locas). Tumba un copa (topas)
El ruido al arma, al vecindario pasa muy amenudo aqui en mi barrio.
Continua Pepe. El legendario sigue su mision, con discresion.
Roba todo lo que llama la atencion. Busca a su chica pura emocion.
A los concortes del bando, Don Pepe ya salio del fango.
Aunque tenga que decirtelo en la cara, no me voy a limitar.
Te creeistes que eras vivo, que mi chica te ganabas.
Ahora vez, te deje sin nada. Sin chica para bailar,
ni grupo pa’impressionar. Te paso por no pensar,
que los demas tambien ganan. Y por gracias al seor,
no te rabcrie la cara.
(Coro)
(background talking)
Que puto el tipo asere, que clase guare hemos metido!

Atrevido (translation)

-Chorus-
That’s your reward for blind bravado, not knowing every treasure comes at a price you dared not fathom,
That’s the fate that hunts you for your ignorance, bold one…
That’s your reward for blind bravado, not knowing every treasure comes at a price you dared not fathom,
That’s the fate that hunts you for your ignorance, bold one…
Hey, na’na', I shall begin to spin for you this woven tale, this twilight fable.
A legend murmured by some old fox, drifting from quarter to quarter, passing hand to mouth.
On the paving stones, it swelled at the ears of those it haunted, overflowing—(ha ha)
Once upon a dusk, a pair of half-blind dreamers, both purseless,
Their thoughts turned volatile, effervescent, perpetual as atoms in their schemes for survival.
To claw free from the tar-black mire that drowned him. Their kisses, too, were bruised by trauma,
A slivered lens between them—a camouflaged camera, for a witless, thick-headed mark.
He told her, “See, the target’s yours,”—already they shadowed the Creole’s calm as a hunting cat.
(Chorus)
No—the mark hurled himself down the slope, to seek life in water gashed and bleeding.
He fancied the water spun, but oh, it was more stubborn than a mule dragging uphill in the rain.
(like a demon’s design)
What, what, what, what—a tale all tangled in flames, I’ll carve it out for you
With a sly rebel’s edge—lest you let your heart start galloping. You hear me, fellow?
Whatever she craved, the mark indulged her whim; hear what she confided. Whatever she demanded, (eh?) he squandered his soul for her.
Oh—a chamber all agleam in Poilla, the mark bled coin after coin.
See, a suit just for him (see, a suit for him)—for me, yes, for me…
He spilled his gold for her—yessss…
Dreamt of the shore, so the mark let his treasure pour like sand.
Yet the sums refused to reckon, refused; the mark’s purse wore thin.
At Orishas’ revels, to be whirled by the music—the mark spent all,
tumturum.
(Chorus)
Pepe, it’s the rogue’s turn (his turn)—to fix his battered snapshots (shattered)
To splinter the door (madness), to topple a glass (where you’ll crash)
The crack of arms, a thunder the neighbors know—here, in the marrow of my barrio.
Pepe presses on—the legend continues, his mission clothed in smoke.
He filches all that glimmers, hunts for his beloved—raw pulse and wild.
Among the rival factions, Don Pepe climbed from the swamp, no trace of the mire.
Though I may have to tell you to your eyes, I’ll not be bridled.
You fancied yourself cunning, thought you could snare my girl with your tricks.
Now see, you’re left with nothing—no partner to twirl on the floor,
No crew to impress—this is your price for failing to reckon,
That others, too, can seize the day. And by the grace of the Lord,
I won’t scar your face.
(Chorus)
(background talking)
What a wretched fool, man, what a mess we’ve conjured here!