Mamitay

From the valley to Orán
I’m singing along
with folk songs and zambas
that you taught me to sing.

Through that jungle I’ll roam
remembering your love,
with folk songs and zambas
to the beat of the drum, mamitay.

Since you’re not here anymore
my thrush doesn’t sing,
and in the ravine, alone,
the folk song just wails.
While the hills call your name
to the beat of the drums, mamitay.

You can never forget,
oh, oh, so much pain,
that the folk songs leave
from the local gatherings.

I’ll always remember you
with all my singing,
I’m crying in the folk songs
from here forever, mamitay.