El gran varón [English translation]

In the hospital room

at 9:43

Simon was born.

It's the summer of '56

the pride of Don Andres

because he was a boy.

He was raised just like the others

with a harsh hand with severity

he never expressed his own thoughts.

When you grow up you're going to study

the same things as your father

listen well

you need to be

a great man.

Simon went abroad

faraway from home he forgot that sermon,

he changed the way he walked

he wore a skirt, lipstick

and a purse.

The people say that one day the father

went to visit him without warning him in advance,

well, what a mistake.

A woman spoke to him when he was passing on by

and told him hello, how's it going father what's up?

you don't recognize me, I am Simon

Simon your son,

the great man

CHORUS:

You can't correct nature

a stick that's born twisted never straightens out its trunk. (3x)

He let himself be carried away

what the people say

his father never spoke to him

he abandoned him forever.

You can't correct nature

a stick that's born twisted never straightens out its trunk.

Don't complain Andres

don't complain about anything

if from the sky lemons fall

learn to make lemonade.

You can't correct nature

a stick that's born twisted never straightens out its trunk.

And while the years pass

the old man yielding a little bit

Simon didn't even write to him anymore

Andres was furious.

You can't correct nature

a stick that's born twisted never straightens out its trunk.

At last there was news

of where his son was

Andres never forgot the day

of that sad phone call.

la, la, la, le, le . . . la, la, la, le, le, le (2x)

In the hospital room

from a strange sickness Simon died

it's the summer of '86

nobody cried for the sick man in bed no. 10

Simon Simoooon Simon

You can't correct nature

a stick that's born twisted never straightens out its trunk.

You need to have compassion

the moral is enough:

he who is free of sin

throw the first stone.

You can't correct nature

a stick that's born twisted never straightens out its trunk.

He who never forgives

has a certain destiny

of reliving sour memories

in their own hell.

You can't correct nature

a stick that's born twisted never straightens out its trunk.

la, la, la, le, le . . . la, la, la, le, le, le (2x)

• Artist:Willie Colón
• Album:Top Secrets (1989)