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Todos los piratas tienen
un temible bergantín,
con diez cañones por banda,
y medio plano de un botín
que enterraron a la orilla
de una playa en las Antillas.
Todos los piratas tienen
un lorito que habla en francés,
al que relatan el glosario
de una historia que no es
la que cuentan del corsario,
ni tampoco lo contrario.
Por un quítame esas pajas te pasan por la quilla,
pero en el fondo son unos sentimentales,
que se graban en la piel
a la reina del burdel,
y se la llevan puesta al recorrer los mares.
Marchando, una de piratas...
Larga vida y gloria eterna.
Para hincarles de rodillas
hay que romperles las piernas.
Todos los piratas tienen
atropellos que aclarar,
deudas pendientes y asuntos
de los que mejor no hablar.
Se beben la vida de un trago,
y se ríen con descaro.
Hasta que un día, temblando
en la popa de un velero,
la encuentran, y traicionando
la ley del filibustero,
no reclaman el rescate
y rehuyen el combate.
Cuando los piratas son hombres enamorados
de una piel que huele a jazmines, rompen promesas
con sus hermanos de ayer,
y huyen al amanecer
rumbo a un puerto que aún no ha puesto
precio a su cabeza.
Marchando, una de piratas...
Nadie doblegó su espada,
pero bastó una mujer hermosa
para cortarles las alas.
No hay historia de piratas
que tenga un final feliz:
ni ellos ni la censura
lo podrían permitir.
Por la espalda, en una esquina,
gente a sueldo los asesina.
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Every pirate has a scary
Sailing ship that’s like a brig,
With ten cannon on each side, and
Half a map to help them dig
Loot they buried on the dry land
Of a Caribbean island.
Every pirate has a little
Parrot that speaks French a lot
And they tell him the translation
Of a story, which is not
Like the one about the beaver,
But it’s not unlike it either.
They will make you walk the plank over any old trifle,
But in their hearts they are really very romantic:
They tattoo upon their skin
Pictures of the brothel queen
Which they wear as they sail the Pacific and Atlantic.
Let’s go, another pirate story...
Long life, glory never-ending!
For their legs have to be broken
Just to get their knees a-bending.
Every pirate has some cases
On which no light has been shed,
Debts outstanding, and some matters
That are better left unsaid.
They drink as if there’s no hereafter,
Live their lives with brazen laughter.
Till one day they find her, quaking,
In the stern end of a sailing
Ship, and treacherously breaking
Every pirate law prevailing,
They don’t bother with the booty
And they shirk their combat duty.
For when pirates fall in love with a skin that is
lovely
With the scent of jasmine upon it, they will forget their
Brothers until yesterday,
And at dawn they’ll run away
Somewhere that no price upon their
Heads has yet been set there.
Let’s go, another pirate story...
No one’s ever bent their weapon,
But all it took was a lovely woman
Just to give their wings a clipping.
There’s no pirate story ever
That can finish happily:
Not the pirates, nor the censors,
None of them could let that be.
In dark corners, from behind them,
Hired killers come and find them.
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