From Alto Cedro I'm heading for Marcané
I'm reaching Cueto I'm heading for Mayarí
The affection I have for you
I can't deny
My drool is flowing
I can't help it
Every time Juanica and Chan Chan
were sifting sand at sea
the way she shook that "sifter"
gave Chan Chan a "hard" time
Clear that "bushy path"
because I want to lay it down
in some hollow log I see
and this way I can't come
From Alto Cedro I'm heading for Marcané
I'm reaching Cueto I'm heading for Mayarí