El Chorrito
Francisco Gabilondo Soler (Cri Cri)
The Little Stream
The drop of water that falls from the cloud
As a gift for the flower
It vanishes into vapor
When the sun rises;
And it rises back to the sky
To the cloud that released it.
The little drop goes up and down,
Down and up
To the rhythm of this song:
There in the fountain
There was a little stream
It grew big
It grew small
There in the fountain
There was a little stream
It grew big
It grew small
It was in a bad mood,
Poor little stream was hot
It was in a bad mood,
Poor little stream was hot.
In the always snowy landscape
Curled up on the volcano
There are millions of little drops
Turned into crystal.
In winter the snow grows,
In summer the sun melts it.
The little drop goes up and down,
Down and up
To the rhythm of this song:
There goes the ant
With her umbrella
And gathering up her skirts,
There goes the ant
With her umbrella
And gathering up her skirts
Because the little stream splashed her
And stained her little plates
Because the little stream splashed her
And stained her little plates.
