Papá Baltasar

Sleep my child Pedro
who is about to arrive,
wrapped in cloud and sky,
Father Baltasar.
His white saddlebag full
with a hundred noisemakers,
with a drum
and a long string top
and a freight train
and a cart.
Sleep my child Pedro
who is about to arrive,
at the pace of his camel
Father Baltasar.

An angel was born in the East,
hair the color of tea,
accompanied by two doves
and a donkey from Bethlehem.
Three Kings seek his cradle
behind a blue star.
The mother, Mother Mary,
and the child, Baby Jesus.
Of my child, child Pedro,
don't forget.
That my child is the darkest
and the poorest, Baltasar.

My Pedro wrote a letter,
Father Baltasar.
And an angel with white wings
could deliver it.
My child is already dreaming
of the noisemaker,
of the drum.
And the long string top
and the freight train
and the cart.
Sleep my child Pedro
who is about to arrive,
wrapped in cloud and sky,
Father Baltasar.

He wants a new soldier
and a sword and a rifle,
and to go up to the sky
a lantern balloon.
He wants a white clown,
also a train.
And a long-haired bear
and a sawdust kitten.
Of my child, child Pedro,
don't forget.
That my child is the darkest
and the poorest, Baltasar.