Mischievous son, in taverns
you waste your life in perdition,
you don't understand that you're to blame
for your poor mother who cries in affliction.
You don't care for your poor little mother1
with white in her hair2 who suffers for you,
you don't understand that she loves you so much,
that you are ungrateful and you make her suffer.
You don't know that your good mother3
there by the church - in her solitude
I've seen her early in the morning on the street
with her hand extended, asking for charity.
With deeply saddening words she told me
"May my son never come to know of the sad truth,
I only want God to bless him,
should my life end, it will be gone soon"
The words spoken by a mother
will be unforgettable to the heart,
and songs who are so ungrateful
end up drunk in perdition.
Go on, run and look for your mother,
for God will punish you for your vileness,
you don't understand that "later" is too late
and that your good mother you will miss.
1. poor little old lady2. lit. 'with her good/blessed white hairs' meaning that she has earned them from worrying/old age but is said as a complement3. lit. 'saintly mother'