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Josie Esteban: The sun was already shown in the sky
The sprayed martyrdom of the night
The pattern of stock waiting for the people
Silver began another search
At that garden tiller of hope
The blizzard of the tragedy will continue
The groan of the weak listen
But not because they feel their mourn
The atmosphere was stained color
And the shore of the sea engraveció
The seller comes from people not in line
Although feed and other non-attainment
The warlord arrives at the home bohío
Squeeze a lump in the throat so as not to infect
His wife and their young offspring
To his neighbors and his race in general ....
Singing the hope that it winds
To grow the seeds of goodness
That will break the silence and sadness
Hold is not sin, when it is for happiness
Singing the hope that it winds
To grow the seeds of goodness
That will break the silence and sadness
Hold is not sin, when it is for happiness.
Vico C: The day breaks, the mountain farmer
Fisherman toward the horizon
For all the same sun
It burns the skin to the worker
In a sea of sweat from his forehead
Drowns the pride of decent man
Because their freedom is not a fig tree
And for all its tarnish no flag
Singing the hope that by the winds
And when the food arrived Conuco
To sing with feeling the Jibaro
To sing my people, very inside
Falls in the afternoon and the world continues
The blood Latino seeks justice
The progress of people progressing
And it should be allowed to sing hope.
Josie Esteban: The moon comes with the bartender
And the crown is presages the goodness
Because the bay is not the only currency
You will need some security
The twilight is mezcal with the bonfire
The itinerant ignited in the alley
Darkness finally follows his path
And the dawn comes the sun again
Singing the hope that by the winds
Crisp that the seeds of goodness
That will break the silence and sadness
Hold is not sin, when it is for happiness,
Singing the hope that by the winds
To grow the seeds of goodness
That will break the silence and sadness
Hold is not sin, when it is for happiness.
Vico C: Cae night darkens
The festival is set Night
There are those who buceen bread on wax
And the Tramp turns on the bonfire
Sings a aya river in cave
It was bugging beating tender melodies
They spoke of love, tenderness, love and faith
And as we do not see
Drums are heard by bending the corner
It is a bomche yesterday that the neighboring
I plan to invite me and with courtesy
Penalties drowning in a sea of sangria
The festival continues until morning
Since the church bells chiming
They are the kids who go to study
And just hope to sing again.