A mi gente

Sitting on the curb of the sidewalk
under the shade of some kind tree
we saw flirtatious carnivals pass by
covered faces of a town in pain.

First it was Pitico and his boys
mochido with his great inspiration
the poor people surround the stages
the chirimío that takes the song.

Mild February of musical siestas
simple remedy for happiness
the sentimental ones, poets from the outskirts
give the flower to the neighborhood that is leaving.

Divine town, robust and cheerful
I toast with you, lend me your heart
I want the secret of the man from your river
the chimney man, the singing tap.

Give my eyes the light of your bohemia
talks of Charlo, Roberto Guitarrón
and the fancy move, the green toad
the wine of the wound, of the parrot and its drum.

Divine town, robust and cheerful
confetti under the sun
continue your struggle of bread and work
so the drum forgets and misery does not.