Pasodoble P'almeria

In the arena where the wave falls, a Moorish breeze singing says:
Almería! And reeds, seashells respond
and the sun over the hills desert palm and sand.
For the dark-haired Andalusian mermaid wounded, April rose.
Delights, water and delights.
And let flowers come that we must live!
Chorus Look at her, she seems so lonely
maybe she doesn't know that I give her my love.
Maybe she looks at Barcelona
where half of her heart drowns.
Wake up, Moorish land, if you're not sensible
who will make you happy?
let the fishermen be the sharks of the coast
the emblem of their trousers
to whom freedom gives an ole.
The wave brings flashes and lights scratching the night
La Chanca goes to the seas
in search of a cold treasure
that moves the threads of the lunar tides.
And they come at dawn, the red mullets and the squid.
Fresh, they are the best, girls,
delights of salty water!