Zamba Carpera

COUNTRY ZAMBA (Zamba)

What will it be,
that for the carnival,
when the drum sounds,
if they ask me I want to sing.

That I'm leaving,
wanting to love you,
looking for some little eyes
that don't want to sympathize.

To love
I cry to make the sea cry
and to console it
give it a bud from your rosebush.

Where will I go,
just by naming you,
in the darkest night
the evening star says I will find you.

Carnival,
take my heart,
beat it like a drum,
say that a poor man of love has died.

To love
I cry to make the sea cry
and to console it
give it a bud from your rosebush.