Fuego de Cumbia

A fire of pure blood that is sung with lament
Cumbia cumbia

Dark nights are lit up
Dark nights are lit up
With a celebration that sings
The drumbeats ring out, the black race rises
The indigenous passively with their melodic bagpipe
Interrupt in the silence when a bonfire dances

And I feel through my veins a fire that doesn't go out

It's the fire of my cumbia
It's the fire of my race
A fire of pure blood that is sung with lament
A fire of pure blood that is sung with lament

Listen Maribel, it's Bogotá

My land was explored here
My land was explored here
Without tribes and without chiefs
The black race has remained, dressing us with joy
Because with strength and courage they gained freedom
By mixing their culture with that of the indigenous Indian
But today the lament that our land lives

Like the fire of my cumbia
Like the fire of my race
A fire of pure blood that is sung with lament
A fire of pure blood that is sung with lament

Here there are great signs
Here there are great signs
Of pre-Columbian times
Because to talk about the bagpipe is to go back in time
It's delving into yesterday and the knowledge of the Indian
It's remembering many times that centuries have passed
But leaving behind the mix of culture and civism

It's the fire of my cumbia
It's the fire of my race
A fire of pure blood that is sung with lament
A fire of pure blood that is sung with lament
A fire of pure blood that is sung with lament
A fire of pure blood that is sung with lament

Here there are great signs
Here there are great signs
Of pre-Columbian times
Because to talk about the bagpipe is to go back in time
It's delving into yesterday and the knowledge of the Indian
It's remembering many times that centuries have passed
But leaving behind the mix of culture and civism

It's the fire of my cumbia
It's the fire of my race
A fire of pure blood that is sung with lament
A fire of pure blood that is sung with lament
A fire of pure blood that is sung with lament