Balderrama

By the edge of the canal
When the morning comes
The night sings out
From Balderrama's place

Inside, pure trembling
The drum with the baguala
And they get stirred up, burning
Let the guitars spark

Lonely stars
Sprouts of dawn
Where will we end up
If Balderrama goes out

If someone starts to sing
A coachman accompanies him
And in every glass of wine
The morning star trembles

Zamba of dawn
Lullaby of Balderrama
Sings through midnight
Cries through dawn