Down a lane comes
riding José Antonio,
he comes from the Barranco
to see the Amancaes flower
in a creole Barb,1
he goes along the way
with Panama hat, handkerchief
and white linen poncho.
As the morning runs,
its memory is playing2
and with joyful romp
the horse lazes aroud.
Fine June drizzles
kiss both of his cheeks
and four hooves singing
are on the way to Amancaes.
How beautiful is my horseman
how elegant and snazzy
he holds the fine silk rein
which is white and red.
How tenderly the brake governs
with only silk ribbon
when taking an elegant swerve
the creole Barb.
Jose Antonio, Jose Antonio
Why did you leave me here?
When I find you again
may it be June and drizzle.
I'll snuggle up to your back
under your linen poncho
and on the hat ribbons
I want to see the Amancaes
that I pick up for you
when you carry me on the rump,
of that your golden dream3
of your horse of fine steps4
that of the Peruvian crossing. (Bis)
1. a horse breed2. could be "his memory"3. the horse is the dream4. a Peruvian horse breed