Qué sapa señor · Francisco Canaro · 1931

Castellano

La tierra está maldita y el amor con gripe, en cama. La gente en guerra grita, bulle, mata, rompe y brama. Al hombre lo ha mareao el humo, al incendiar, y ahora entreverao no sabe dónde va. Voltea lo que ve por gusto de voltear, pero sin convicción ni fe. Hoy todo Dios se queja y es que el hombre anda sin cueva, volteó la casa vieja antes de construir la nueva... Creyó que era cuestión de alzarse y nada más, romper lo consagrao, matar lo que adoró, no vio que a su pesar no estaba preparao y él solo se enredó al saltar. ¡Qué 'sapa', Señor... que todo es demencia!... Los chicos ya nacen por correspondencia, y asoman del sobre sabiendo afanar... Los reyes temblando remueven el mazo buscando un 'yobaca' para disparar, y en medio del caos que horroriza y espanta: la paz está en yanta ¡y el peso ha bajao!... ¿Qué 'sapa', Señor, que ya no hay Borbones, las minas se han puesto peor que los varones; y embrollan al hombre que tira boleao; lo ven errar lejos a un dedo del sapo y en vez de ayudarlo lo dejan colgao?. Ya nadie comprende si hay que ir al colegio o habrá que cerrarlos para mejorar...

Inglés · traducción automática

The earth is cursed and love is in bed with the flu. The people shout at war, seethe, kill, break and bellow. The smoke, as it set the fire, has made man dizzy, and now, all mixed up, he doesn't know where he's going. He knocks down whatever he sees for the pleasure of knocking down, but without conviction or faith. Today everybody complains and it's because man goes about without a den, he knocked down the old house before building the new one... He thought it was a question of rising up and nothing more, of breaking what was sacred, killing what he'd adored, he didn't see that in spite of himself he wasn't prepared and he got himself tangled when he jumped. What's up, Lord... that it's all gone mad!... Children are born now by mail order, and they poke out of the envelope already knowing how to steal... The kings, trembling, shuffle the deck looking for an ace to make a run for it, and in the middle of the chaos that horrifies and appals: peace is on the rocks and the peso has dropped!... What's up, Lord, that there are no Bourbons left, the women have turned out worse than the men; and they tangle up the man who throws his bolas wide; they watch him miss badly by a finger's width and instead of helping him they leave him hanging? Nobody understands now whether you should go to school or whether they'll have to close them to make things better...