Lyrics of Guantanamera - Pete Seeger, Arlo Guthrie, Ronnie Gilbert

Guantanamera (original)

Guantanamera, guajira, Guantanamera
Guantanamera, guajira, Guantanamera
Yo soy un hombre sincero, de donde crecen las palmas
Yo soy un hombre sincero, de donde crecen las palmas
Y antes de morirme quiero echar mis versos del alma
Guantanamera, guajira, Guantanamera
Guantanamera, guajira, Guantanamera
Mi verso es de un verde claro y de un carmin encendido
Mi verso es de un verde claro y de un carmin encendido
Mi verso es un ciervo herido que busca en el monte amparo
Guantanamera, guajira, Guantanamera
Guantanamera, guajira, Guantanamera
I am a truthful man from this land of palm trees
Before dying I want to share these poems of my soul
My verses are light green but they are also flaming red
I cultivate a rose in June and in January
For the sincere friend who gives me his hand
And for the cruel one who would tear out this heart with which I live
I do not cultivate thistles nor nettles I cultivate a white rose
Cultivo la rosa blanca en junio como en enero
Cultivo la rosa blanca en junio como en enero
Para el amigo sincero que me da su mano franca
Guantanamera, guajira, Guantanamera
Guantanamera, guajira, Guantanamera
Y para el cruel que me arranca el corazon con que vivo
Y para el cruel que me arranca el corazon con que vivo
Cardo ni ortiga cultivo cultivo la rosa blanca
Guantanamera, guajira, Guantanamera
Guantanamera, guajira, Guantanamera
Con los pobres de la tierra quiero yo mi suerte echar
Con los pobres de la tierra quiero yo mi suerte echar
El arroyo de la sierra me complace mas que el mar
Guantanamera, guajira, Guantanamera
Guantanamera, guajira, Guantanamera

(translation)

Guantanamera, guajira, Guantanamera
Guantanamera, guajira, Guantanamera
I am a sincere man, from where palms grow
I am a sincere man, from where palms grow
And before I die I want to pour out my verses from the soul
Guantanamera, guajira, Guantanamera
Guantanamera, guajira, Guantanamera
My verse is a light green and a lit carmine
My verse is a light green and a lit carmine
My verse is a wounded deer that searches the mountain for shelter
Guantanamera, guajira, Guantanamera
Guantanamera, guajira, Guantanamera
I am a truthful man from this land of palm trees
Before dying I want to share these poems of my soul
My verses are light green but they are also flaming red
I cultivate a rose in June and in January
For the sincere friend who gives me his hand
And for the cruel one who would tear out this heart with which I live
I do not cultivate thistles nor nettles I cultivate a white rose
I grow the white rose in June as in January
I grow the white rose in June as in January
For the sincere friend who gives me his frank hand
Guantanamera, guajira, Guantanamera
Guantanamera, guajira, Guantanamera
And for the cruel one who rips out the heart I live with
And for the cruel one who rips out the heart I live with
thistle nor nettle cultivation cultivation the white rose
Guantanamera, guajira, Guantanamera
Guantanamera, guajira, Guantanamera
With the poor of the land I want to throw my luck
With the poor of the land I want to throw my luck
The mountain stream pleases me more than the sea
Guantanamera, guajira, Guantanamera
Guantanamera, guajira, Guantanamera