La diuca
Victor Jara
The B*tch
Headed to a party
on my little roan mare,
and I told my girl:
hold on tight, Catalina.
My girl's dog
brought the booze,
and to be at ease
we threw the mutt in the water.
Leave me the b*tch,
let her sing,
don't scare her off,
let her fly,
my little bird likes to fly.
Brought to cook,
a plump little hen,
and in the shade of a tree
we killed the chicken.
We crossed the Tinguiririca,
we crossed the tinguiriraca,
me with my girl up top,
go on, dance the guaracha.
And to shorten the way,
we took the dirt road,
we kicked up so much dust,
we left a trail of dust.
For the whole gang,
a little bundle of dry grass,
they'll freeze to death
if they leave the b*tch outside.
