Los Diamates de La Corona

Girls, who sell flowers
You go to Granada
Don't pass through the mountains
Of the Alpujarra

There is a bandit
Who with all the girls
Has a deal

On the slopes of the mountain
A girl like a Sun
Is searching night and day

For her lost heart
A ruthless bandit
Stole it as he passed by

And she fills the thickets
With the lament of her love
She believes that if he heard her
He would like her

But she begins to fear
That he won't come