La Casita Está Triste - Julio Sosa

Los chicos no juegan, la casa está triste

La gente camina en puntas de pie

El alma de ella en todo subsiste

El alma tan buena de la que se fue

Sollozos furtivos, suspiros y quejas

Se oyen muy suaves cual leve rumor

De los que han quedado.

Se postran las viejas

Y elevan plegarias a Nuestro Señor

Un hombre murmura: «¡Qué mala es la vida!

¡Llevarla tan joven, indigna pensar!

¡Tan buena y tan bella, por todos querida

Dejar en tristezas sumido a su hogar!»

La gente la extraña -¡si era tan buena!-

Con todos charlaba, con todos se dio

Por eso en su muerte se ve tan serena

¿Será que su almita al cielo voló?

Despunta la aurora y mecen las brisas

Las plantas, las flores, que tanto cuidó

Y añoran sus riegos, sus dulces sonrisas

Y tiernos cuidados que en vida les dio

Se asoma un nenito, rosado, sonriente;

Pregunta a su padre: «¿Mamá dónde está?»

Y al ver el cadáver, le dice doliente:

«¡Papito, yo quiero dormir con mamá!»

The boys don't play, the house is sad

People walk on tiptoes

Her soul in everything subsists

The soul so good that she left

Furtive sobs, sighs and complaints

They are heard very soft like a slight rumor

Of those who have remained.

the old women prostrate

And raise prayers to Our Lord

A man murmurs: "How bad is life!

Carry her so young, unworthy to think!

So good and so beautiful, by all dear

Leave your home in sadness!»

People miss her -if she was so good!-

He chatted with everyone, with everyone he gave

That's why in her death she looks so serene

Could it be that her little soul flew from her to heaven?

The dawn breaks and the breezes sway

The plants, the flowers, that she took care of so much

And they long for their risks, their sweet smiles

And tender care that in life he gave them

A little boy appears, pink, smiling;

He asks his father about him: "Mom where is he?"

And upon seeing the corpse, he mournfully tells her:

"Daddy, I want to sleep with mommy!"