Anduriña (part. Juan Pardo)

In Galicia one day
I heard an old story, in a café
It was about a girl who escaped from the village
Young swallow that flew

They cry thinking, where will she be?
But no one wants to go look for her
They called her Swallow
Those she left behind return quickly to the port
Please!

An old man speaks by the hearth
Tells me very softly and without malice
Swallow is young
She will return, they will see!
Poor little bird, without feathers

On any given day, she will land
Her mystery will no longer be
The name Swallow, they will never say it again
But in the meantime, where does she go?
Swallow where do you go?
Swallow where do you go?
Swallow
Where do you go?