Silbo

There's a place where men talk like birds
On the island of La Gomera, 'el silbo' echoes

Between two mountains tied to the clouds
A 'guache' whistles to invite himself to dinner

On the menu? A spicy 'mojo' that brings tears to the eyes
And, once again, a whistle to say goodbye

Watching him climb, agile foot, arched legs
He's only distinguished in the clay by the sound of his whistle

'La lucha canaria' to protect his island
'El silbo' to defy the 'Guardia civil'

It's an island in paradise where humans whistle too
The most beautiful song of the most beautiful bird, it's the Gomeran whistle
It's the Gomeran whistle

The 'guagua' climbs the terraced gardens
Under the volcano of the stroll, 'el silbo' pierces the smoke

And here I am, a little giant, ready to whistle in the wind
The few words I've kept fly towards you
Gomero! Bonifacio!

The most beautiful song of the most beautiful bird, it's the 'Gomeran whistle'