El blues de Folsom prison

Folsom prison blues
El blues de la presó de Folsom

I hear the train a comin'
It's rollin' 'round the bend,
And I ain't seen the sunshine,
Since, I don't know when,
I'm stuck in Folsom Prison,
And time keeps draggin' on,
But that train keeps a-rollin',
On down to San Antone.

Sent com s’acosta el tren
Per la revolta
I ja no recorde quan de temps fa
Que no veig la llum del sol
Estic tancat a la presó de Folsom
I passa el temps
Però eixe tren continua rodant
Cap a San Anton.

When I was just a baby,
My Mama told me, "Son,
Always be a good boy,
Don't ever play with guns,"
But I shot a man in Reno,
Just to watch him die,
When I hear that whistle blowin',
I hang my head and cry.

Quan era un xiquet
Ma mare em va dir, «Fill,
Sigues sempre un bon xic,
No jugues mai amb pistoles»
Però jo vaig matar un home a Reno
Només per veure com moria,
Quan sent eixe xiulit
Abaixe el cap i plore.

I bet there's rich folks eatin',
In a fancy dining car,
They're probably drinkin' coffee,
And smokin' big cigars,
But I know I had it comin',
I know I can't be free,
But those people keep a-movin',
And that's what tortures me.

Segur que hi ha uns tipus rics menjant,
En un vagó restaurant de luxe,
Deuen estar bevent café
I fumant cigarros grossos
Jo sabia el que em tocava,
Sé que ja no seré lliure,
Eixa gent està a la dula
I això és el que em tortura

Well, if they freed me from this prison,
If that railroad train was mine,
I bet I'd move out over a little,
Farther down the line,
Far from Folsom Prison,
That's where I want to stay,
And I'd let that lonesome whistle,
Blow my Blues away.

Bé, si em tragueren d’esta presó,
Si la via del tren fóra meua
Segur que mouria d’ací
Més enllà de la línia
Lluny de la presó de Folsom,
Allà és on vull ser
I deixaria que eixe xiulit solitari
S’emportara el meu blues.