Prenda Robada
Los Chalchaleros
Stolen Garment
(zamba)
I saw her for the carnival,
alone and I wanted to take her,
she told me crying,
don't take me sir, I won't last.
I said it won't matter to me,
I take her with even more reason,
I like to go through life
c hanging flavors like the hummingbird.
CHORUS
The zambas flew, flew,
the flower of the loja fell ripe,
a flowery skirt
and two black braids my dark horse took.
The night watched us go by,
without noise, through the sandy area,
not a word on our lips,
our eyes lost, both, as we look.
Sometimes I start to think,
remembering that carnival,
what things life has,
what awaits us is what it gives us.
CHORUS
The years flew, flew,
the flower of affection gave me its fruit,
because the stolen garment
never left me, it stayed with me.
