Al Gurugu Guruguero

To a steel Christ
I made him cry,
That when the holy Christ cried
It would be of human flesh.

To the gurugú guruguero,
I won't get married
Because I don't want to.

Poor my mother,
Crying in sorrow,
Here come the moles
Looking for my brother Juan.

I don't want you to talk to me,
If in the world there are bad people
But like you, there's no one.

Oh, how good it is
In the morning
Butter and bread.