Ecos del Rocio — La Gitana song lyrics and translation
The page contains the lyrics and English translation of the song "La Gitana" by Ecos del Rocio.
Lyrics
De mi chocita de juncos
se me escapó una mañana
llena de rabia y coraje
en un canasto de cañas
llevaba to su equipaje
Era de raza gitana
mi gente no la quería
se me escapó una mañana
¡qué mala suerte la mía!
¿Quién ha visto a una gitana
entre los algodonales
con su camisita blanca
amarraíta en el talle?
Tan sólo por ser gitana
mi gente no la quería
ay, ¿cómo no les gustaba
tu cara morena, gitanita mía?
yo por ti me muero tu eres mi alegría.
¿Quién ha visto a una gitana
en el río a medio día?
como lavando bailaba
con las enaguas tendías
Si un día te la encontraras
dile que yo no la olvío
que mi chocita es su casa
que la quiero más que nunca la he querío
que dile que se vuelva al laito mío
¿Quién ha visto a una gitana
detrás de su borriquillo
escuchando una cigarra
que cantaba en los olivos.
A veces quiero olvidarla
a veces sueño con ella
cuando tiro de mi manta
te hecho de menos
no estás a mi vera
con lo que yo te quiero
niña canastera.
Voy buscando a una gitana
con una rosa en el pelo
ojalá me la encontrara
pa decirle que la quiero
Dejarla como soñaba
vendiendo rosas y claveles
que era lo que le gustaba
no quería tierra ni baraca ni redes
que si no acabara con diez churumbeles
Lyrics translation
Of my weevil chocita
it slipped out one morning.
full of anger and courage
in a basket of reeds
he was carrying his luggage.
He was a gypsy.
my people didn't want her.
it slipped out one morning.
my bad luck!
Who has seen a gypsy
among the cotton
with her white T-shirt
tied at the waist?
Just for being a gypsy
my people didn't want her.
oh, how did they not like it
your brunette face, my Gypsy?
I'm dying for you. you're my joy.
Who has seen a gypsy
in the river at noon?
as washing danced
with the petticoats, you'd tend
If one day you found her
tell her I don't forget her.
that my chocita is your home
that I love her more than I've ever loved her
tell him to get back to my bed.
Who has seen a gypsy
behind his spray
listening to a cicada
singing in the olive trees.
Sometimes I want to forget her
sometimes I dream about her
when I pull from my blanket
I missed you.
you're not my vera.
with what I love you
basket girl.
I'm looking for a gypsy.
with a rose in her hair
I wish I could find her.
to tell her I love her
Leave her as I dreamed
selling roses and carnations
which is what he liked
I didn't want land or shack or nets.
that if I didn't end up with ten churumbeles