My parents left me in heritage,
besides the moon and the sun,
This filled polka dot dressing gown
that with me the whole world ran
A donkey and a pair of lambs,
A lot of desire to do nothing
and talent, pupil and flair
To be able to drag this life
A very little thing
This is the truth
But I'm blessed
Of being able to sing:
I'm from the calé's heritage
Who dictates its laws to the world,
Daughter of gypsy parents
And I carry on the king's blood
In the palm of the hand;
And I carry on the king's blood
In the palm of the hand;
I'm from the calé's heritage
~
I would like to die in the cradle,
That at birth would pick up the Pharaoh,
that my eyes would be closed by the moon
and the sun would seal my lips
I'm not jelous of anyone's luck
I'm the same thing as the peacock
Which receives death proudly
And leaves the world pridefuly,
I don't ask for much,
This is the truth
I will die blessed
Just for being able to sing:
I'm from the calé's heritage
Who dictates its laws to the world,
Daughter of gypsy parents
And I carry on the king's blood
In the palm of the hand;
And I carry on the king's blood
In the palm of the hand;
I'm from the calé's heritage
And I carry on the king's blood
In the palm of the hand;
And I carry on the king's blood
In the palm of the hand;
I'm from the calé's heritage