Jaleo

Commotion, commotion, commotion, commotion
Run away, Moon, Moon, Moon
Commotion, commotion, commotion, commotion

The Moon came to the forge with her petticoat of nard
The boy looks at her, looks, the boy is looking at her
In the stirred air, the Moon moves her arms
And shows, wanton and pure, her breasts of hard tin

Run away, Moon, Moon, Moon, if the gypsies were to come
They would find you on the anvil with your little eyes closed
Run away, Moon, Moon, Moon, I can already hear their horses
Child, leave me, do not step on my starched whiteness

The rider was approaching, playing the plain's drum
Inside the forge, the boy has his eyes closed
In the olive grove they came, bronze and dream, the gypsies
Heads raised and eyes half-closed

How the nightingale sings, oh, how it sings in the tree
Through the sky goes the Moon with the child by the hand
Inside the forge, the gypsies cry out, shouting
The air watches over her, watches, the air is watching over her

Come on, commotion, commotion, commotion, commotion
The commotion is over, now the shooting begins
Come on, commotion, commotion, commotion, commotion
The commotion is over, now the shooting begins
Come on, commotion, commotion, commotion, commotion
The commotion is over, now the shooting begins
Come on, commotion, commotion, commotion, commotion
The commotion is over, now the shooting begins

Come on, commotion, commotion, commotion, commotion
The commotion is over, now the shooting begins
Come on, commotion, commotion, commotion, commotion
The commotion is over, now the shooting begins
Come on, commotion, commotion, commotion, commotion
The commotion is over, now the shooting begins
Come on, commotion, commotion, commotion, commotion
The commotion is over, now the shooting begins