Cueca larga de los "Curaos"

I like to get drunk, now and then,
to forget the sorrows I'm going through.
With a daily glass of red wine,
I'm a friend of the daffodil and hyacinth.

With two glasses, brother, I'm about the flowers,
singing like the nightingales.
With three glasses, I dare to dance with you
and to invite, affectionate, my friends.

With four glasses, I go from table to table,
pulling fantasies out of my head.
With five glasses, I see things a bit blurry
and my singing sounds a bit ragged.

With six glasses, I couldn't care less
and a quarter of the millstone.
With seven glasses, I dance, tip to toe,
in a green uniform and a cop's cap.

With eight glasses, I toast to Maria,
to the Korean 'war' and the police.
With nine glasses, I feel like I'm 'on fire'
and I'm happy to be 'drunk'.

With ten glasses, I get close to the 'lady of the house'
and the 'husband' catches me red-handed.
With eleven glasses, I go out the window,
flying like a morning bird.

A 'dozen' of glasses somewhere else
and I'm the banner of the 'drunkards'.
A dozen and a half, two dozens,
and a 'gentle' sorrow starts to 'creep in'.

Two and a half dozens, I'm already crying,
why would I sober up, I keep drinking.
Six dozens, three liters, bring it on,
I have the money and I'm a 'player'.

A bottle of pisco and a girl,
to dance the cockroach with her.
Send another bowl to the band,
to see if they play a ranchera.

A ranchera, my soul, bring some water,
to attend to this lady in style.
I'm out of money, I ask for credit,
I'm 'known' and 'respected' for that.

Give this girl a mint
and see if tomorrow she'll 'do something'.

Yeehaw! Yeehaw! Yeehaw!

'Thirty-five lemons on a branch,
forty-five pesos for the bed'.

I sell my spurs, made of steel,
because I won't leave here without what I want.

Serve drinks for 'everyone', nonstop,
because that's how it goes when I 'split'.

I sell my horse, how much do you charge me?
With this 'blonde' mare, I have more than enough.

In bed, sleeping, and in another house,
I wake up wanting to know what's going on.

Where are my spurs? And my horse?
I search and search but can't find them.
Where's the girl, because here next to me
there's a guy sleeping, 'dead drunk'.

The window with bars, also the door,
and there's a guard who doesn't answer.
I woke up 'beautiful', damn how nice,
without a girl, without a horse, and with a 'huge hangover'.

Twenty thousand bail, I have the watch,
my wedding ring, three for two.
I walk home on 'foot',
and I know my lady is waiting for me.

And here I finish the story, I leave it 'closed'
in case I go to the 'backyard of the drunkards'.
I spent thirty thousand and a couple of spurs,
my 'old man's horse', for the girl.

If only I had 'gotten' something,
but I don't even remember being so 'drunk'.
You have to be very 'bold' for these things,
Hasn't it 'occurred' to you, buddy Rosas?

For a 'good' leg, even the most 'painted'
gets 'cut off' with five golden glasses.
Moral of the story for all the 'guests',
if someone smiles, they surely 'got caught'.