El Paso
Out in the West Texas town of El Paso
I fell in love with a Mexican girl.
Night-time would find me in Rosa's cantina;
Music would play and Felina would whirl.
Blacker than night were the eyes of Felina,
Wicked and evil while casting a spell.
My love was deep for this Mexican maiden;
I was in love but in vain, I could tell.
One night a wild young cowboy came in,
Wild as the West Texas wind.
Dashing and daring,
A drink he was sharing
With wicked Felina,
The girl that I loved.
So in anger I
Challenged his right for the love of this maiden.
Down went his hand for the gun that he wore.
My challenge was answered in less than a heart-beat;
The handsome young stranger lay dead on the floor.
Out through the back door of Rosa's I ran,
Out where the horses were tied.
I caught a good one.
It looked like it could run.
Up on its back
And away I did ride,
Just as fast as I
Could from the West Texas town of El Paso
Out to the bad-lands of New Mexico.
Back in El Paso my life would be worthless.
Everything's gone in life; nothing is left.
It's been so long since I've seen the young maiden
My love is stronger than my fear of death.
I saddled up and away I did go,
Riding alone in the dark.
Maybe tomorrow
A bullet may find me.
Tonight nothing's worse than this
Pain in my heart.
And at last here I
Am on the hill overlooking El Paso;
I can see Rosa's cantina below.
My love is strong and it pushes me onward.
Down off the hill to Felina I go.
Off to my right I see five mounted cowboys;
Off to my left ride a dozen or more.
Shouting and shooting I can't let them catch me.
I have to make it to Rosa's back door.
Something is dreadfully wrong for I feel
A deep burning pain in my side.
Though I am trying
To stay in the saddle,
I'm getting weary,
Unable to ride.
But my love for
Felina is strong and I rise where I've fallen,
Though I am weary I can't stop to rest.
I see the white puff of smoke from the rifle.
I feel the bullet go deep in my chest.
From out of nowhere Felina has found me,
Kissing my cheek as she kneels by my side.
Cradled by two loving arms that I'll die for,
One little kiss and Felina, good-bye.
Marty Robbins
Gunfighter Ballads and Trail Songs
1959
10 comentarios:
Have you ever seen Marty Robbins?
Marty Robbins live¡¡¡
Robbins was born in Glendale, a suburb of Phoenix, in Maricopa County, Arizona. He was reared in a difficult family situation. His father took odd jobs to support the family of ten children. His father's drinking led to divorce in 1937. Among his warmer memories of his childhood, Robbins recalled having listened to stories of the American West told by his maternal grandfather, Texas Bob Heckle. Robbins left the troubled home at the age of seventeen to serve in the United States Navy as an LCT coxswain during World War II. He was stationed in the Solomon Islands in the Pacific. To pass the time during the war, he learned to play the guitar, started writing songs, and came to love Hawaiian music
El cantarín ese de la foto se parece a un tal Jacques Dechet que conocí hace algún tiempo, ocho o nueve años, era croupier en el Gran Casino de Paramaribo. por aquel entonces Jacques tendría ya sesenta o sesenta y pico.
Un sitio interesante Paramaribo, sí.
A veces Jacques me habló de un primo cantante que vivía en San Francisco. Ese Marty puede ser?
Pues la verdad es que no sabría decirle, querido Arrturo.
No le digo que no pudiera ser, aunque quizá eso nos obligaría a preguntarnos por las constantes idas y venidas del carguero Emma Mäelstrom (de la Odense Steel Shipyards) del puerto de Antofagasta a las costas de Guayaquil.
Y es un tema que la familia del viejo Jacques quizá prefiera no remover.
Dear Arrturo Gorrdon, are you sure about Jacques?
Lo intento espanol Marty un hijo se había named Jacques because his french wife Chantelle this name ponir.
Jacques fue su casa no mas after a high school day at seventeen.
Is Jacques in Guyana? It's great¡¡¡ It's great¡¡¡ Confirming, please.
Querido Martin David,
no te preocupes por tu español que es muy comprehensible. A lot.
Me alegro (¡qué gran labor la de Arrturro y cuánto mundo ha visto este hombre, del uno al otro confín!) de que se vislumbre la posibilidad de reunir a toda la familia Robbins y que unos y otros puedan abrazarse y besarse (siempre dentro de las reglas de la estricta decencia y sin levantar mucho la voz, que un Robbins sabe muy bien lo que es el decoro) de nuevo en un lado u otro del mundo.
Parece que al fin todos los designios de Don Revólver Pistolín Pistolo, el gran estudioso de la canción popular internacional, pueden llegar a cumplirse y su gran sueño de reunir en un mismo lugar a viejos desdentados y aparecidos ectoplasmáticos hacerse realidad al fin.
Estimado Don Molibdeno, mi nombre es Arrturo y no Arrturro.
Conocí en las islas Kerguelen a un tal Arrturro, italiano de Bari.
Arrturro Cazzurro, y en verdad lo era.
Trabajaba en la gasolinera del puerto y casi nos deja sin barco, qúe torpe y que cazurro.
Con él trabajaba un argentino, Felipe Luis Eloardo, que a Arrturro lo llamaba payo poni burrisiego y lo hacía enfadar.
Pero yo soy Arrturo. No se confunda, me ofendo.
For information:
In 1948, Robbins married Chantelle Balcroux (September 11, 1930 - July 10, 2001) to whom he dedicated his song "My Woman, My Woman, My Wife'". They had two children, a son Jacques (born 1949) and daughter Janet (born 1959), who also followed a singing career in San francisco and Los Angeles.
Interesting?
Yes¡¡¡ Great information¡¡¡
Don´t you¡¡¡
Lex Luthor, tras un tiempo dedicado a otros menesteres, ha vuelto.
No se ofenda no, mi buen Arrturo, que una r (por pequeña) a cualquiera se le escapa.
Un quítame allá esas pajas, ¿ve?
Seguimos, pues, regocijándonos con las sabrosas historias de su atribulada vida.
Bien.
Nos alegramos de volver a saber de usted, querido Lex, y vemos que vuelve aportando interesantísimos datos sobre la familia Robbins.
Albricias (Alvarfáñez).
En cuanto a sus menesteres, seguro que eran de máximo interés, de gran importancia, de rompe y rasga, de Ranavalona.
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