Pregonero

I can't believe it, No!,
that it will be lost, No!, No!
The beautiful profession, No!,
of bringing the voice from the paper.

Oh!, the town crier goes... singing his experiences
Walking down the sidewalk,
he goes, he goes, he goes
like sorrows in a bar.

The clock has struck twelve and calm,
everything is calm again
The children sleep and dream
that their parents are getting along
They get along, affection returns,
they make up with the neighbor
Unpredictable and eternal
the verses from my notebooks.

I can't believe it, No!,
that it will be lost, No!, No!
The beautiful profession, No!,
of bringing the voice from the paper.

Oh!, the town crier goes... singing his sorrows
That are already going down the stairs,
going up, going up the hill
Together with his dogs.

I shout the message loudly,
I don't sell any potion
Just words of encouragement
to cheer up the lament
Lament that is downcast
in very depressed times
We must cheer up our friend
to change the fate.

I can't believe it, No!
that it will be lost, No!, No!
The beautiful profession, No!,
of bringing the voice from the paper.
And it can't happen, No!,
that it will be silenced, No!, No!
The popular voice, No!,
should never be extinguished.

Whooo...
You know,
Puerco en Piedra.