With a red carnation bleeding in his mouth
and holding a willow stick in his hand,
along a footpath that takes to the river
Antonio Vargas, the gypsy, was walking by.
Among the orange trees, the moony moon
was laying on his forehead the light of the blooms,
and when the day light was beginning to break,
he had on the glare of the green olive field,
the green olive field.
Antonio Vargas Heredia,
flower of the 'calé' race
from your hand the stick fell,
and the carnation from your mouth.
and the carnation from your mouth.
From Puentegenil to Lucena, 1.
from Loja to Benamejí 2.
From Puentegenil to Lucena,
from Loja to Benamejí
the young girls from Sierra Morena 3.
die with grief
crying for you.
Antonio Vargas Heredia
they die with grief
crying for you.
Antonio Vargas Heredia the gypsy,
was the most gallant and best looking one,
and all around Sierra Morena
no one was more handsome, more honest or better than him.
But because of a gypsy woman,
he sank his knife into a man's chest,
the damned jealousy overcast his eyes,
and imprisoned in the slammer he cried out of rage.
Antonio Vargas Heredia,
flower of the 'calé' race
from your hand the stick fell,
and the carnation from your mouth.
and the carnation from your mouth.
From Puentegenil to Lucena,
from Loja to Benamejí
From Puentegenil to Lucena,
from Loja to Benamejí
the young girls from Sierra Morena
die with grief
crying for you.
Antonio Vargas Heredia,
they die with grief
crying for you.