Corridos: Tales of Passion and Revolution

Funding for this program is provided by grants from the Corporation for Public Broadcasting, the Ford Foundation, and grants for the Arts of the San Francisco Hotel Tax Fund. I am the ballot, the ballot sings, and my voice is of the streets and the cantinas and the dance halls, and all the places where I am heard, for I am the soul of the common

people, the sings of tragedies and belling poly, but also happiness. For a long time I am going out by ah Oh Go to the dances and all the parties

I am in love, but above all I have crossed when I try to walk I am the dance of the four and the voices of the dance There will be a dance of mine I am the race that sings, but I don't like it I also like it Over a century, my friends, the race has been a singing voice of the people along the 2000s, miles, US, Mexican border and all points north and south as far as living memory can reach Cantina songs of course, but only because of the lust for life and the sharp eye on death In the cantina's or market places

Corridísters or valid singers will pull out the old leader with his cat-to-string and singers are later tapering the most recent tragedy scandals, murders But from this legacy of thousands of sensational stories came popular heroes A sense of history and standards of public morality as in the ballot of Rosita Alvira It was the year 1900 and the memory still abides In the very flower of her youth, Rosita Alvira is done I am going to the dance, my mom, don't try and stop Rosita, Rosita

Before he took aim to the dance, infatuated with Rose He was young, he was homeless Rosita turned up her nose The Paladins were awarding 12 subsequent generations But all her daughters obey their mothers and beware of fatal flirtations A coming of electric light to Mexico City brought forth

El Corrido de la luz eléctrica An early scandal involving 41 gay men in a dance dressed in rag Inspired the Corrido de los 41 Maricones Yet the most scandalous Corrido came to the new world with the conquistadores As a romancy about a Spanish king and his daughter It's a fairy tale straight out of the middle ages with an ironic contemporary ring Because it deals with the modern subject of the insides Sometime in the last 100 years, our tale was translated to a Mexican scene And the king became a richer aristocrat near the city of Morelia We have placed it in the year 1910 during the reign of the dictator Porfidio Diaz Just before the Mexican Revolution Here, then, is the exquisite, lovely tragedy of Delgadino

Delgadina, sir, pasé a pan de la sala la cocina con vestido transparente Que su cuerpo le lumina Delgadina walked around from the kitchen to the parlour And a transparent dress that illumined her graceful body And the king, her father, whispered

Who will be my lovely mistress? The king, her father, whispered The king, her father, whispered Papi, around is Delgadina, levantate

We mustn't be late for church, we're on our way to Morelia Run your silken skirt Run your silken skirt Run your silken skirt And the king, her father, whispered

The king, her father, whispered Ah, me When your father, your father, whispered Delgadina, your father, whispered The king, her father, whispered Delgadina, I have a little confession to make

I saw you dancing in the salon last night You saw me Don't worry, I enjoyed it But I don't want you dancing in the sun You'll sweat and get dark like an Indian Ah, Delgadina, come here Do you love me?

Of course I love you Do you believe me? Yes, Papi, I love you Tell me something, if I promise to let you dance in secret, will you be my lady? But I already am your lady I mean, my mistress Papa, what are you saying? Delgadina, I want you to love me as a woman loves a man Papa, no! Don't touch me like that! I lose my soul Delgadina, come here Listen to me carefully If you do not do as I ask, I will have to punish you harshly

Then punish me Who are you? Who are you? Delgadina, why aren't you eating your gaspacho?

I'm not hungry Drink your milk I'm not thirsty Is something wrong? You know what's wrong Delgadina, I'm not going to repeat myself All you're going to do is I command Never, I'd rather die Gather the eleven servants and lock up Delgadina

steal her up in the tower Delgadina, if she asks for water, give her salty brine Delgadina, if she asks for water, give her salty brine Delgadina, if she asks for water After three days of imprisonment, Delgadina came out for air

From a window she saw her sister, combing her golden hair Little sister, if you are my sister for all that you love on this earth Please, give me a glass of water for I'm dying of thirst Delgadina, without permission, I dare not give you water For if Papa shall find out, we shall both be punished harder Delgadina, without permission, for another window and call

When she saw her brother, playing with a golden ball Little brother, if you are my brother, please give me a glass of water for I'm dying of thirst Delgadina, if you are my sister, I dare not give you water Because if Papa should find out, we shall both be punished harder Delgadina, if you are my sister, I dare not give you water

Delgadina went without permission to another window and looked And there she saw her mother, leafing through a golden book Mother, I said that you are my mother, give me a glass of water Delgadina, if you are my sister, I dare not give you water For if your father finds out, we shall only make things harder

Delgadina, if you are my sister, I dare not give you water Delgadina, if you are my sister, I dare not give you water Delgadina, if you are my sister, I dare not give you water Delgadina, if you are my sister, I dare not give you water

For if your father finds out, we shall both be punished harder Please, before I die of thirst And I will do everything you say Daughter, Daughter, Daughter, Daughter

Some came with vessels of gold, others with glasses from China Dived with all the water, death had come for Delgadina The bed of Delgadina, by angels, is surrounded

The bed of the king, her father, by angels, is surrounded The bed of the king, her father, by angels, is surrounded With this I say farewell, with the floor of Delgadina, here ends the tragic story

Daughter, Daughter, Daughter, Daughter, Daughter Ah, the proverbial smoking pistola, sex, machismo, tragedy All typically Mexican obsessions The Mexican Revolution of 1910 was the first great social appeal of the 20th century

Many officials consider it to be the period of the greatest flowering of the Corrido With the struggle for land and bread, people suddenly had a voice And that voice started to sing Corrido's But their exploits, their politics, their tutor life heroes such as Doroteo Rango Better known as Pancho Villa But the real unsung story lies with the women, the grandmothers of many of us, we've all from being camp followers to actual combatants and feelings Three legendary songs about three legendary women tell this story, La Delita, La Valentina, Ylarielera These songs together with the dispatches of an American journalist traveling with Pancho Villa back in 1914, a man by the name of John Reed Now combined to give us this portrait of a Mexican woman at war, nurturing life in the face of death as a soldier Daughter I am Lillera, I have my Juan, he is my life, I am his want

When they tell me that he is already valtrend, oh my God, I am blessed, I am with my Juan She was a railroad woman and she had her Juan, he was her life, she was his love And when Pancho Villa left Chihuahua to attack Torrión in 1914 on that hot march morning, she was at the train station in the midst of that chaotic come It would sweep through Mexico like a maelstrom

Get it! I am Lillera, I have my Juan, he is my life, I am his want

When they tell me that he is already valtrend, oh my God, I am with my Juan I am Lillera, I have my Juan, he is my life, I am his want When they tell me that he is already valtrend, oh my God, I am with my Juan

When they tell me that he is already valtrend, oh my God, I am with my Juan I am Lillera, I have my Juan, he is my life, I am his want When they tell me that he is already valtrend, oh my God, I am with my Juan When they tell me that he is already valtrend, oh my God, I am with my Juan

When they tell me that he is already valtrend, oh my God, I am with my Juan When they tell me that he is already valtrend, oh my God, I am with my Juan When they tell me that he is already valtrend, oh my God, I am with my Juan When they tell me that he is already valtrend, oh my God, I am with my Juan

When everybody is watching, when everybody is doing it, even the coronel, when they make it There is only one way you are going to get over this What if I did kill tomorrow?

What if I did kill tomorrow? What if I did kill tomorrow? What if I did kill tomorrow? What if I did kill tomorrow? What if I did kill tomorrow? What if I did kill tomorrow? What if I did kill tomorrow?

What if I did kill tomorrow? What if I did kill tomorrow? What if I did kill tomorrow? What if I did kill tomorrow?

What if I did kill tomorrow? What if I did kill tomorrow? What if I did kill tomorrow?

What if I did kill tomorrow? What if I did kill tomorrow? He had found her after the battle, and they went to bury the dead, wandering aimlessly at Laker Dana, apparently out of her head, needing a woman he ordered her to follow and she had unquestioningly, out of that place of sorrows. We need to cover you!

Delipreta, you and I are still alive. Are you hungry? Yes. Andali, run and fetch me some fresh water and corn that I can feed my men. Thank you. I don't remember seeing you at Laker Dana, are you there long? Too long. This war is no game for women, Signor.

My dinner, is it ready? Yes, it's ready. I found this place to sleep, over and there. Signor, listen, please, I remember you from the train. My lover Juan was killed yesterday in battle, and this man, well he's my man now, but for the love of God and all the saints, I cannot sleep with him this night. Let me stay then, with you. There wasn't a trace of coquetry in her voice.

It was hardly a matter of choice. With her lover scarcely cold in the ground, the thought of any man revolted her. I was nothing to her, or she to me, and that was all that mattered. Thank you, Signor. Thank you very much. I'm going with this man. I'm going to stay with him tonight. This is my woman. Yes, I know she's your woman, but she's very tired and not well, and I've offered her my bed for the night. Come on. No, Signor, she is my woman, and I want her. Come on. No, until next time, Signor, next time. Compadre, not your compadre. You're a guest of the tropa, and a friend to the coronel.

But if you want her, you're going to have to kill me. I will kill you. He's not armed. He's dead. You can tell me. He's dead. You can tell me. He's dead. You can tell me. It's a mendigo gringo. He wants to steal my woman. But first, I'll kill them both. And you? What do you want? Well, you can take care of your viejas. Don't come any to the coronel.

Without the slightest embarrassment, you lay down beside me on the ground. Her hand reached for mine, and she snuggled against my body for the comforting human warmth of it. When does not she, Signor? When does not she? Well, calmly, sweetly, sleep came to me. The morning when I awoke, she was gone.

I looked out, morning had come dazzlingly, all blue and gold. I have an inflamed trim, big white clouds and windy sky. The desert brazen and luminous. She was squatting over a fire near the train, patting tortillas. She nodded as I came up and politely asked if I had slept well. With the end, thank you. Are you feeding him my desk? No, no. You take such a long time to cook breakfast. Why is there no coffee?

Are you going to treat me with a little respect? No, no, no, no. Don't give me that, please. Get ready. We go south in an hour. Are you going? Am I going? This war is all that I have left now, Signor. I will go with this man, and if he gets killed, I'll go alone. But everything has changed. I can never go back to the life I once knew. I neither can my country. By the way, what is your name? Felizabetta. You? John, one, three.

Adios. One. I never saw her again, as soon as she was on a troop train hitting south. A year later, she ended Mexico City triumphantly as a soldier woman with the forces of Pancho V. I saw her again, as soon as she was on a troop train. I saw her again, as soon as she was on a troop train. Call me home.

After a million murders in the revolution of 1910, 10% of the population of Mexico immigrated north into the United States. Joining the waves of humanity have come to these shores seeking the safety and opportunity of America. In spite of these tragic circumstances, New Ballads were soon being written about life north of the border, many with a sharp sense of humor and an eye for political satire, as evidenced in this classic corrido about an illegal immigrant, who came to seek his fame and fortune in the Hollywood of the 1920s. The Ballad of a dishwasher, the corrido de lava platos. I used to dream in my youth of becoming a movie star,

and I came up north to discover Hollywood. In spite of these tragic circumstances, many with a sharp sense of humor and an eye for political satire, many with a sharp sense of humor and an eye for political satire, and I came up north to discover Hollywood.

I used to dream in my youth of becoming a movie star, and I came up north to discover Hollywood. In spite of these tragic circumstances, many with a sharp sense of humor and an eye for political satire, many with a sharp sense of humor and an eye for political satire,

many with a sharp sense of humor and an eye for political satire, and I came up north to discover Hollywood. In spite of these tragic circumstances,

many with a sharp sense of humor and an eye for political satire, and I came up north to discover Hollywood. In spite of these tragic circumstances, many with a sharp sense of humor and an eye for political satire,

many with a sharp sense of humor and an eye for political satire, many with a sharp sense of humor and an eye for political satire, many with a sharp sense of humor and an eye for political satire, many with a sharp sense of humor and an eye for political satire,

many with a sharp sense of humor and an eye for political satire, many with a sharp sense of humor and an eye for political satire, and I came up north to discover Hollywood. I came up north to discover Hollywood.

I came up north to discover Hollywood. I came up north to discover Hollywood. Funding for this program was provided by Grants Corporation for Public Broadcasting, the Ford Foundation, the Ford Foundation, the Ford Foundation, the Ford Foundation,