Las Espigadoras
Conchita
The Reapers
This morning very early
I left the village with my little hat
And as then the dawn was coming
I welcomed it singing like a little bird
This morning very early
Through the lanes and the stubble
I am the ant of the remains
And as it has very good eyes
Sometimes she picks from the sheaves
Oh oh oh! What work the Lord sends us
To get up and bend over again
All day to the air and the Sun
Oh oh oh! What memory of my reaper
Don't glean the fields of grain
For behind the sickles I go
The reaper with her basket
Makes the shadow of the team
She suffers gleaning behind the reapers the same sweats
Of the man who reaps and threshes
(The reaper with her basket)
As soon as the conch shells sound
Through those wheats they go alone
And they adorn themselves with poppies
With trinkets and ribbons
Oh oh oh! What work the Lord sends us
To get up and bend over again
All day to the air and the Sun
Oh oh oh! What memory of my reaper
Don't glean the fields of grain
For behind the sickles I go
Oh oh oh! I don't glean the fields of grain
Because I wait for you to come here
To hear the worth of a love
Oh oh oh! If by your side a love awaits me
I don't care about the air or the Sun
Or that you tear out the grain by the roots
