Naziv ovog posta je zbog ove pjesme:
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| Hijo De La Luna Album Tonto el que no entienda cuenta una leyenda que una hembra gitana conjuró a la luna hasta el amanecer llorando pedía al llegar el día desposar un calé tendrás a tu hombre piel morena desde el cielo habló la luna llena pero a cambio quiero el hijo primero que le engendres a él que quien su hijo inmola para no estar sola poco le iba a querer estribillo Luna quieres ser madre y no encuentras querer que te haga mujer dime luna de plata qué pretendes hacer con un nino de piel Hijo de la Luna De padre canela nació un nino blanco como el lomo de un armino con los ojos grises en vez de aceituna nino albino de luna maldita su estampa este hijo es de un payo y yo no me lo cayo estribillo Gitano al creerse deshonrado se fue a su mujer cuchillo en mano zde quién es el hijo? me has enganao fijo y de muerte la hirió luego se hizo al monte con el nino en brazos y allí le abandonó estribillo Y en las noches que haya luna llena será porque el nino esté de buenas y si el nino llora menguará la luna para hacerle una cuna y si el nino llora menguará la luna para hacerle una cuna | Son of a moon Foolish is he who doesn't understand. A legend tells of a gipsy woman Who pleaded with the moon until dawn. Weeping she begged At the break of dawn To marry a gipsy man. "You'll have your man, tawny skin," Said the full moon from the sky. "But in return I want the first child That you have with him. Because she who sacrifices her child So that she is not alone, Isn't likely to love it very much." Chorus: Moon, you want to be mother, But you cannot find a love Who makes you a woman. Tell me, silver moon, What you intend to do With a child of flesh. A-ha-ha, a-ha-ha, Son of the moon. From a cinnamon-skinned father A son was born, White as the back of an ermine, With grey eyes instead of olive -- Moon's albino child. "Damn his appearance! This is not a gipsy man's son And I will not put up with that." Chorus Believing to be dishonoured, The gipsy went to his wife, A knife in his hand. "Whose son is this? You've certainly fooled me!" And he wounded her mortally. Then he went to the woodlands With the child in his arms And left it behind there. Chorus And the nights the moon is full It is because the child Is in a good mood. And if the child cries, The moon wanes To make it a cradle. And if the child cries, The moon wanes To make it a cradle. |