Oh Qué Será? Lyrics in English by Willie Colón

Below, I translated the lyrics of the song Oh Qué Será? by Willie Colón from Spanish to English.
These lyrics have verified word for word translations. Click any lyric word to see the translation and hear the pronunciation!
Verse 1
I believe in many things I haven't seen
And you do too, I know
You can't deny the existence of something tangible
However ethereal it may be
There's no need to show proof of decency
Of that which is so true
The only choice is to believe or not
Sometimes even to believe while crying
It's an incomplete subject because it lacks an answer
An answer that perhaps one of you can provide
It's a Technicolor subject for making something useful out of love
For all of us, amen
Oh, what could it be? What could it be?
Verse 2
That goes sighing through the bedrooms
That's heard whispering in troubadour verses
That keeps mixing up crazy questions for us
That's on our minds, that's on our lips
That goes rising through high hollows
That's being talked about loudly in the corner store
And shouts in the market, 'What is that thing?'
It's nature, could it be? What will it be?
That has no certainty and never gives you any
That has no concept, and never will
That has no size
Oh, what could it be? What could it be?
Verse 3
That lives in the minds of those lovers
That the most delirious poets sing about
That the drunken prophets swear by
It's in the pilgrimage of the maimed
It's in the fantasy of the unhappy
It's in the daily life of prostitutes
And all the bandits and the helpless
In all their senses, could it be? What will it be?
That has no decency and never will
That has no censorship and never will
And it lacks sense
Oh, what could it be? What could it be?
Bridge 1
That no warning can prevent it
That not even prisoners can defy it
That all roads will have to cross it
Where all the signs are going to consecrate it
And all the little children are going to investigate it
And all destinies are going to find it
And the Eternal Father himself, who was never there
They'll bless man once again
Putting out hell's final flame
Because there's no point in stumbling again
For lack of judgment
It's what the prophet swears and the poet sings
And they're shouting on the demo, what will it be?
That wakes me up at night
And makes me tremble, makes me cry
Outro 1
They're ghosts, we're ghosts
I hear the door knock three times, who could it be?
They go sighing through the bedrooms
And whispering troubadour verses, start listening
It has no size, and it's nature
It's on our lips and on our minds
All the little children will investigate it
And no warning will be able to prevent it
It will ring in every bell
And whoever is asleep will wake up
They're ghosts, we're ghosts
I hear the door knock three times, who could it be?
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Lyrics © ACUM Ltd.
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alcobas — bedrooms

Alcobas translates to "bedrooms" or "chambers." While seemingly simple, it's a more poetic and slightly archaic term than the common "dormitorio."

In the song, the phrase "anda suspirando por las alcobas" (it goes sighing through the bedrooms) evokes a sense of mystery and intimacy. It suggests that whatever "it" is (the "qué será?"), it's a pervasive, almost ghostly presence that touches the most private spaces, making the word feel intriguing and evocative.

"Oh Qué Será" is Willie Colón's take on one of the biggest questions in Latin music: what will happen to us? The song opens almost like a mini sermon, the singer saying he believes in plenty of things he's never seen, so why not believe in this too, even without proof.

From there it turns into a list of everything "qué será" could be. It lives in the daydreams of lovers, in the songs poets write when they've had a few too many, in the everyday grind of people the world usually looks past: the drunks, the outcasts, the sex workers, the bandits. It knocks at night, makes you tremble, and refuses to give you a straight answer.

That's really the heart of the song: fate doesn't explain itself. It shows up everywhere, in everyone's life, rich or poor, saint or sinner, and all anyone can do is believe in it or not. The repeated "¿qué será, qué será?" isn't a question looking for a real answer, it's the sound of a whole neighborhood shrugging at the mystery of what's coming, and dancing to it anyway.

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