La Gente Del Sur

I am an emigrant from my Andalusia after having to build half the world working hard day and night and my tired land waiting.
Today they want to hang the wine, the party, the beach, and the nap on the people of the south and I tell the world to come whoever knows how to add it up and win it, drink it and leave it like the Andalusian.

If one were to forget, if one were to forget what is never forgotten, the memory and hope of returning someday to the door of my house and stay all my life.

Today those little creatures arrive looking for my land, a crust of bread, and I always remember that first day when I had to emigrate from Andalusia. The hole always comes when the hill ends, telling my dog to go back, to return and treat me like a stranger, and my own dog instead of looking for me, starts barking.

I am like the little tree, I am like the little tree that is planted in another land. With time it grows big, putting down roots in the newest and it can no longer be uprooted because the shadow remains.

I am an emigrant from my Andalusia after having to build half the world working hard day and night and my tired land waiting.
Today they want to hang the wine, the party, the beach, and the nap on the people of the south and I tell the world to come whoever knows how to add it up and win it, drink it and leave it like the Andalusian.