Lo Mal Que Estoy y Lo Poco Que Me Quejo

How bad I am and how little I complain
How bad I am and how little I complain

I always get up with my foot looking down
The voice, mute, greets me from afar
It gives me its silence but I play dumb
Looking at myself in the mirror

And the mirror reflects back without my own
I accept it, and continue, but I don't trust myself
I self-diagnose without any success
So I get depressed

How bad I am and how little I complain
How bad I am and how little I complain
My soul in quarantine and my body broken
What pain, what sorrow, what torment

I walk on the sidewalks, my walk out of tune
The suitcase full of pebbles
The smile upside down from climbing so many stairs
Without reaching anywhere

And history criticizes me because I'm always suffering
I tell them: 'poor is the one who hides his tears'
A brick doesn't know how to cry
But it also doesn't keep the beat well

How bad I am and how little I complain
How bad I am and how little I complain
My soul in quarantine and my body broken
What pain, what sorrow, what torment

And how the whole life hurts me
And the doctor has told me to question
The most true truth, to arrive late to the grave
And to seek a placebo for every new pain

My donkey, my donkey is hurt by love
Because nobody loves him, only I love him
And sorrow greets me when I'm laughing the most
My heart is full of patches

My donkey, my donkey is hurt by love
Because nobody loves him, only I love him
And sorrow greets me when I'm laughing the most
My heart is full of patches

Chin pon