Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Tierra Que Canta, artist - Lole Y Manuel. Album song Una Voz Y Una Guitarra, in the genre Поп
Date of issue: 10.05.2010
Record label: EMI Music Spain
Song language: Spanish
Tierra Que Canta(original) |
Entre los naranjos va un blanco alazán, |
se bebe la tarde vestía de azahar. |
Blanco es el caballo, dulce el naranjal, |
celeste es la brisa que viene del mar, |
la Luna se asoma por verlo pasar, |
y el agua del río le sigue a compás. |
Y el Sol que se ha ío se pone a soñar. |
Tierra de Andalucía, tierra que canta, |
tierra de hombres que tienen nobleza y rabia. |
Cantaba el agua del río, cantaba el viento y la flor, |
cantaban los pajarillos porque mi dueño llegó. |
Me gusta decir tu nombre, |
porque tu nombre en mi boca |
suena a piropo de hombre, |
suena a piropo de hombre. |
Limonares de Sevilla |
y viñeos de Jerez, |
arrozales y marismas, |
olivos de la campiña |
pintan de verde tu piel. |
Málaga, plazuela Mora, |
y jardines de Graná, |
Córdoba, lejana y sola, |
y Sevilla, bordaora, |
siempre a la Luna asomá. |
En la montaña, |
sombreros de margaritas |
y lirios de amapolas y romeros, |
Del Gualdaquivir, |
cuna del Guadalquivir, |
Alcazar y celosías, |
entre salinas y jazmín, |
a Cai te quieres ir |
a cantar por la Bahía. |
(translation) |
Among the orange trees goes a sorrel white, |
he drinks the afternoon dressed in orange blossom. |
White is the horse, sweet the orange grove, |
celestial is the breeze that comes from the sea, |
the moon peeks out to see it pass, |
and the river water follows in rhythm. |
And the Sun that has gone down begins to dream. |
Land of Andalusia, land that sings, |
land of men who have nobility and rage. |
The water of the river sang, the wind and the flower sang, |
The little birds sang because my owner arrived. |
I like to say your name |
because your name in my mouth |
sounds like a man's compliment, |
sounds like a man's compliment. |
Lemon groves of Seville |
and vineyards from Jerez, |
paddy fields and marshes, |
olive trees of the countryside |
they paint your skin green. |
Malaga, Mora square, |
and gardens of Graná, |
Córdoba, distant and alone, |
and Seville, embroidery, |
always to the moon appears. |
In the mountain, |
daisy hats |
and lilies of poppies and rosemary, |
of the Guadaquivir, |
cradle of the Guadalquivir, |
Alcazar and latticework, |
between salt flats and jasmine, |
Cai you want to go |
to sing for the Bay. |