Canciones de mi Padre Lyrics as performed by Linda Ronstadt. I learned this ballad by Gilberto Parra from the singing of Lucha Reyes, who is a cornerstone of Mexican female vocal tradition. She recorded a most charming version of it in the 's. Poor me Ay, my heart Poor me don't suffer any more How much my suffering in my breast That throbs so alone for you. For a love I have cried little drops of blood from my heart, You have left me with a wounded soul Without compassion Marquez S.
This ranchera is a standard for all mariachis and dates back to the 's or 's. What fiery roses! If you're thinking of leaving me better to take away my life; Lift your eyes to look at me If you are not engaged to be married. You are a sprig of cotton That lives in the bud; Ay, what sadness I feel When you fill yourself with haughtiness Upon seeing my heart Entangled with yours! According to Mendoza, this ia a danza habanera , a folk dance reflecting the Cuban influence which was strong in Mexico following the revolution of The rhythm of this waltz has an elegantly graceful nineteenth century Creole cadence.
And everyone says that I don't love you That I don't adore you with a frenzy And I tell them that they lie, they lie That I would even give my life for you. Un palomito al volar Que llevaba el pecho herido Ya casi para llorar Me dijo muy afligido. Ya me canso de buscar Un amor correspondido. This huapango was written by Ray Perez y Soto. It was recorded in the 's by Jorge Negrete when he sang with the Trio Calaveras, and more recently by Lola Beltran, who is, in my opinion, the greatest voice to ever come out of Mexico.
The image of the wounded dove in the third verse is a popular symbol; it is a messenger of afflicted love. The Cicada Don't sing to me anymore, cicada Let your singsong end For your song, here in the soul Stabs me like a dagger Knowing that when you sing You are proclaiming that you are going to your death Sailor, sailor Tell me if it is true that you know Because I cannot distinguish If in the depth of the seas There is another color blacker Than the color of my sorrows.
A little dove upon flying Bearing a wounded breast Was about to cry And told me very afflicted I'm tired of searching for A mutual love. Under the shade of a tree And to the beat of my guitar I sing this "huapango" happily Because my life is ending And I want to die singing Like the cicada dies. A more contemporary version exists by Maria Dolores Pradera, a favorite singer of mine, who is from Spain.
Look how I'm going around, my love Given to drinking And utter ruin. Only your fatal shadow Shadow of evil Stubbornly follows me Wherever I go And by trying to forget my love for you I throw myself into drunkenness And utter ruin.
I am a renowned teetotaler, but I love this drinking song. The use of the word chaco is unusual it has been defined as organ meat of hunted fowl and the exact meaning of the refrain it appears in probably has a double connotation. I have opted to sing it here with my niece, Mindy, who at 17 brings a lovely innocence to this tale of gleeful debauchery. Get On With It What will they say those in your house When they see me drinking, Will they think that it's on account of you That I live my life drinking Get on with it.
But if you could see How pretty these binges are Get on with it. Chorus But until whenever Your parents stop protecting you Get on with it. Each time that I come to see you I'm always slipping; Is it that I have bad luck Or is it that it's drizzling on me, Get on with it.
But if you could see Me dry my chaco in my flowering fig tree grove Get on with it. Chorus But if ever I dry my chaco in my flowering fig tree grove, Get on with it. You say that I'm a fool, Because i'm always getting drunk, And in spite of your scorn, I want to keep on drinking, Get on with it.
But if you were to see How pretty these binges are, Get on with it. Chorus But how beautiful Are the hours I spend emptying bottles, Get on with it. Ya no se oye aquel falsete Que es el alma del trovero. Rogaciano se llamaba Rogaciano el huapanguero Y eran sones de la sierra Las canciones del trovero.
It is one of the songs my brothers and I used to try to harmonize when we were growing up, so I asked them to sing it with me on the record.
After knowing it for so long, we've finally learned all the words! It is a tale of the huasteca , a region north of Vera Cruz, Mexico, where the sones huastecos usually called huapangos are sung. See notes on La Calandria for definition of sones. A huapanguero is a singer of huapangos. The style is characterized by falsetto breaks in the singing.
The cane is ready Today begins the milling The sugar mill is in mourning And sighs with each turn. In the green coffee plantations Far beyond that pasture There are those who say that in the nighttime The huapanguero appears. Copyright renewed, all rights controlled by Peer International Corp.
La Charreada written by Felipe Bermejo Ay Upale y upa liu upale y upa liu A charreada is similar to a rodeo but has slightly different events more par- ticular to the style of the Charro, or gentleman cowboy.
It is very colorful because the men always compete wearing their elegant Charro suits, the basis of the mariachi costume. The grand entry el jaripeo features the ladies riding their beautiful horses sidesaddle. It also includes the singing of the tra- ditional rancheras that I love so much. My sister Suzi used to say that the real test of a good singer was if he or she could support a tone on horseback, as she heard the singers do in the charreada.
She even learned to ride her horse sidesaddle. If I can get her to teach me how to do it, maybe I'll be able to sing sidesaddle in a charreada one day - a cherished dream of mine.
The Charreada How very pretty is this fiesta The charro fiesta, fiesta in the sun Where the valiant charros Evoke such feeling with their songs The festive grand entry Smacks of tradition and the furrows of the earth It resembles the action of the bullfight So admired in my nation Pretty is the grand entry and how great its excitement I want to ride the bull So that my love can see me.
Copyright renewed. Dos Arbolitos written by Chucho Martinez Gil Han nacido en mi rancho dos arbolitos, Dos arbolitos que paracen gemelos, Y desde mi casita los veo solitos Bajo el amparo santo y la luz del cielo. I'm afraid I beat him to it but I haven't received a dime. In view of the circumstances, the only proper thing to do was invite him and my brother Pete to sing the trio with me. They got scale. It was written by Chucho Martinez Gil and made popular by Pedro Infante in the late 's or early 's.
Two Little Trees Two little trees have been born on my ranch Two little trees that look like twins And from my house I see them all alone Under the holy protection and light from the heavens.
They are never separated, one form the other Because that is how God wanted for the two of them to be born, And with their own brances they caress each other As if they were sweethearts who loved each other. Little tree, little tree, under your shade I'm going to wait until the end of this tiring day, And when I'm all alone looking to the sky I'm going to ask Heaven to send me a companion.
Little tree, little tree I feel alone I want you to accompany me until I die. Me aprehendieron los gendarmes Al estilo americano, Como un hombre de delito, Todos con pistola en mano. This beautiful corrido story song is a favorite of my brother Pete who is el jefe de policia in Tucson. He tells a story about singing this in his police car with one of the regular drunks that he would pick up and either escort to jail or drive home, depending on how much mischief the man had been up to.
It is a song from Sonora sung during the Revolutionary war, and I remember my dad and his great compadre, Felipe, singing its many verses late into the night with a good bottle of mexcal for the accompaniment.
Ballad of Cananea I'm going to detail What happened to me, That they have taken me prisoner Being a well played rooster. Even though I've been around and should have known better. Por tantos pesares, mi amor angustiado Llorando te llama Y te hallas muy lejos Te fuiste cantando Y hoy vuelves trayendo La muerte en el alma. My father used to play this graceful song on the piano during lazy Sunday afternoons in our home in Tucson. It took me about 30 years to finally get around to asking him what it was called. How we take these treasures for granted!
It was written around in Cosala, Sinaloa, on the west coast of Mexico. The musicologist Adrian Trevino thinks that this song was a salon piece, possibly a valse asentado slow waltz.
Its salon origins are suggested by the unusual poetic struc- ture and expression; each thought is in three parts of six syllables each. The Boat from Guaymas At the stroke of the oar the waves are agitated Light is the boat At the noise of the water my sorrow gets deeper And my soul is sobbing. Because of so many troubles My anguished love cries out to you You are very far away And my soul finds itself alone, all alone.
Tired traveler who returns to the port From faraway lands What strange pilot sailed your boat Without a sail, without an anchor From where do you come, that you have torn to pieces Your sails so white. You left singing And today you return, bringing death in your soul. I am the sailor who happily from Guaymas Left one morning Carrying in my boat, like a guiding bird, My sweet hope Through unknown seas The storm overwhelmed my sacred yearnings That's why my efforts are broken And I bring death in the soul.
You left singing And today you return Bringing death in your soul. The ethno- musicologist Dr. Stephen Loza describes a son plural: sones as a folk song and dance usually danced with heels on a board represented in different regions in Mexico. Jarocho is the region of the Atlantic seaboard in Vera Cruz. The Lark I am like the lark That in order to form its nest Always looks for a strong branch So that she won't see it fall. Others are like the deer Eager and presumptuous When it goes out to find love Is killed without warning.
The clouds go through the sky The fish through the water The gold is under the ground And love is in the petticoats. My dark lovely one What am I going to do If you take this love Away from me. What good is it for men To put on airs If when they are at home Their pants fall down. Also another thing happens With those who are braggarts When they see the real thing Something happens to them in their breeches. This exquisite ballad is in the public domain and relatively unknown. I first sang it with Danny Valdez in Corridos , a P.