Mort de gana (traducere în Engleză)

traducere în Engleză


That art, boy, that art...
Slim, slim, slim and starving,
starving, starving.
Slim, slim, slim and starving,
starving, starving.
I'm a poor man but with lots of brains
after the war there was no feast
and I got a job, and I got a job
in a ministry.
I'm a messenger at the register
and I have a shady and small wage
but maybe one day, maybe one day
they'll make me minister.
To get by the hunfer I have the solution:
If next to home they kill a capon,
the ones at home, the ones at home
soak bread with smell.
And on holidays, that we eat sardine,
as I'm aware, I don't throw the fishbone,
because the kid, because the kid
will comb after.
My guts roar, my belly is empty,
and that means there's nothing cooked.
And on top of that, and on top of that
we're eight at home.
The wife doesn't work, the jobs scare her,
the mother in law is fierce, she has ravenous hunger
What a mother in law, what a mother in law
and the God who bears her!
Four children that I have, are my agony,
because they were used to eat daily.
That's why I locked them, that's why I locked them
in a seminary!
The only one who works is my daughter,
at Les Tàpies street makes money,
selling matchboxes,
matchboxes and lottery!
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Postat de Diazepan Medina la Vineri, 25/05/2018 - 14:22

Mort de gana

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