La huasteca está de luto
Se murió su huapanguero.
Ya no se oye aquel falsete
Que es el alma del trovero.
Rogaciano se llamaba
Rogaciano el huapanguero
Y eran sones de la sierra
Las canciones del trovero.
La Azucena y la Cecilia
Lloran, lloran sin consuelo
Malagueña Salerosa
Ya se fue su pregonero.
El cañal está en su punto
Hoy comienza la molienda
El trapiche está de duelo
Y suspira en cada vuelta.
Por los verdes cafetales
Más allá de aquel potrero
Hay quien dice que de noche
Se aparece el huapanguero.
La Azucena y la Cecilia
Lloran, lloran sin consuelo
Malagueña Salerosa
Ya se fue su huapanguero.
This moody, beautifully haunting huapango
was written by Valeriano Trejo, who, according
to Rubén Fuentes, is a school teacher.
Fuentes recorded it in the 1950's with Miguel
Aceves Mejía, another hero of mine. It is one
of the songs my brothers and I used to try to
harmonize when we were growing up, so I asked
them to sing it with me on the record. After
knowing it for so long, we've finally learned
all the words!
It is a tale of the huasteca, a region north
of Vera Cruz, Mexico, where the sones huastecos
(usually called huapangos) are sung. (See notes
on La Calandria for definition of sones.) A
huapanguero is a singer of huapangos. The style
is characterized by falsetto breaks in the
singing. L.R.
Rogaciano
La huasteca* is in mourning
Its huapanguero has died
You can no longer hear that falsetto
Which is the soul of the troubadour.
Rogaciano he was called
Rogaciano the huapanguero*
And they were sones of the sierra
mountains
The songs of the troubadours.
Azucena and Cecilia
Are crying, crying inconsolably
Malagueña Salerosa*
Their bard has gone.
The cane is ready
Today begins the milling
The sugar mill is in mourning
And sighs with each turn.
In the green coffee plantations
Far beyond that pasture
There are those who say that in the
nighttime
The huapanguero appears.
Azucena and Cecilia
Are crying, crying inconsolably
Malagueña Salerosa*
Their bard has left.