A Mi Gente
El Sabalero
To My People
To my people
Sitting on the curb of the sidewalk
Under the shade of some kind tree
We saw flirtatious carnivals pass by
Living mask of a town in pain
First it was Pitico and his boys
Pochilo with his great inspiration
The poor people surround the stages
It's Chirimino who takes the song
Warm February of musical siestas
Simple imitation of happiness
The sentimental ones, poets from the outskirts
Give the flower to the neighborhood that is leaving
Divine town, robust and cheerful
I toast with you, lend me your heart
I want the secret of the man from your river
Of the chimney man, of the singing Canilla
Give my eyes the light of your bohemia
Chats of Charlo Roberto with his guitar
And the Firulete, the toad of the greens
The refined Verija, the Loro and his drum
Divine town, robust and cheerful
Confetti under the sun
Continue your struggle of bread and work
So the drum forgets and misery doesn't
