Macorina

Put your hand here, Macorina
Put your hand here
Put your hand here, Macorina
Put your hand here

Your feet left the mat
And your skirt slipped away
Searching for the green line
That, seeing your fine figure
The sugarcane
Would lay down in your path
So you could grind it
As if you were a mill

Put your hand here, Macorina
Put your hand here
Put your hand here, Macorina
Put your hand here

Your breasts like sweet fruit
Your mouth a blessing
Like ripe soursop
And your slender waist
Was the same as that dance

Put your hand here, Macorina
Put your hand here
Put your hand here, Macorina
Put your hand here

Then the dawn comes
That takes you from my arms
And I don’t know what to do
With that scent of a woman
Of mango and fresh cane
That filled me to the rhythm
Hot from that dance

Put your hand here, Macorina
Put your hand here
Put your hand here, Macorina
Put your hand here