Traducir a
It was so little on the track
So little that nothing was
Because of not having, didn't have
No one that loved him
He was a sad fan
That was looking for the occasion
Of leaving in a field
In front of a bull, the heart
Romance of bravery
Written with white moon
And grace from Andalucia
In fields of Salamanca
Charge, pretty bull
Charge, for charity
Dying doesn't matter
Because no one was going to cry for me
Here there's no plaza or name
Or suit, or tobacco and gold
Here is a very man boy
That is in front of a bull
Don't hesitate to kill me
I even give you forgiveness
And since I don't have a mother
The Macarena protects me
If you hang me on a python
Every night I was jumping
With no fear the wall
And heads or tails he was playing
All life to the bull
Who could be red coloured
The animal that charged against him
And bitting his side
Wounded left him
Romance of bravery
Dyed with the white moon
And blood from Andalucia
In fields of Salamanca
Goodbye, Sevilla plaza
You'll never see me again
Stepping on your yellow sand
That I dreamed about so much
Goodbye, silk cloak
That was my companion
To die in this battle
Is a thing of a good bullfighter
Already dressed in wires
The fans must not see me
And since I don't have a mother
The Macarena protects me
And would give me her blessing
And there he stayed between the wild beast
No one saw him fall
Nobody even prayed
Not even an "Our Father" for him
For him, no "serrana"
Cried dressed in mourning
For him, no bell
Tolled at dawn
But, on the other hand, between lilies and candles curled up
In San Gil, the Macarena
Oh, she did cry with grief
Over the death of the young boy
Ver letras en otros idiomas
