El Papalote [English translation]

It will be through your home

Made of ruins and of mysteries

Because you were breaking the rock

To win a pair of stockings.

Or through your slingshot

The most famous on the hill

With the best pitchfork

Of the guava and hard rubbers.

It will be for all this

That my memory rises up from time to time

Like your kites

The invincible ones, the cheapest ones.

And the weight lifts you

Narcissus daffodil, the stump, to put you

Together with the chosen ones

Those who don't fit in death.

[Chorus:]

The kite falls, falls, falls, falls, falls

The kite falls, falls, falls, falls, falls

The imagination leaves a bowline

A good blade, no sharp point

Once, from your hands,

A coronel left, shining.

What a perfect bird,

So many colors, what a pretty song.

None of us

Was going to fly it, people already knew,

It was a tall order

From the one who commanded, the one who had.

You carried in your fist

Some money from sadness

Money from moonshine

From the sun, from Cuba, from beer

And we all followed you

To celebrate it, dirty and crazy

For you, a gold letter

And candy for us

[Chorus]

People would whistle at you

When you'd climb up drunk in the afternoon

You'd answer with stones

And curses for the kids

You were the personality

Of the hustle and bustle of your town

You were for laughs

You were an old man, you were black.

One night, respect came down

And placed a beautiful crown on you

Respect of mortals

Death finally made you a person

Poor person who thought

Poor people, all of them

Because the most important day of your existence

Was the day of your death

[Chorus]