La Enharinada
Christian Herrera y Matacos
The Floury One
Floury one, I dance the zamba to the Calchaquí's edge
In January, the fierce devil keeps pushing me to break free
In January, the fierce devil keeps pushing me to break free
I pack my gear, cigar and wine, can’t forget the coca
To brew them well for the verses that spring up for the carnival
To brew them well for the verses that spring up for the carnival
Pour me a drink, I’m itching to let my voice run wild
And from the depths of my throat, I’ll give birth to my song
And from the depths of my throat, I’ll give birth to my song
For the summer, I’ll set fire to matters of the heart
Always the same, I’m incurable, I’ll pawn my heart
Always the same, I’m incurable, I’ll pawn my heart
Always grateful to the earth, I bid farewell to the pujllay
With my guitar, smelling of basil, I’ll return to celebrate next year
With my guitar, smelling of basil, I’ll return to celebrate next year
Pour me a drink, I’m itching to let my voice run wild
And from the depths of my throat, I’ll give birth to my song
And from the depths of my throat, I’ll give birth to my song
