Coplas de La Cocina

Ay ay ay, ay ay ay
While I cook, I sing, yes

Like little eyes of potato are the sorrows
From the outside, you see little of what lives
Inside the potato, alone, all alone

When I peel onion, layer by layer
It seems like I undress some word
I don't know if to cry from sorrow or from astonishment

If in the copper pot dances some sweet
I move it slowly so it doesn't get scared
And the fruit gives away all its perfume

What would the devil eat every morning
To have such a red tail
They have given him a little chili, curse word

Because all the letters play in it
And angel's hair makes it thick
Oh, hot soup, who had it

Ay ay ay, ay ay ay
While I cook, I sing, yes