On my black horse I've come from very far, I carry a gun on my belt And with it I give advice. I crossed the mountain To come and see the flowers. There's no hill too steep for me, No old nag can slow my pace. Even if another wants to pick her It is I who saw her first And I swear I have to steal her Even if she has a gardener. I have to see her transplanted To the garden of my house. And if the gardener shows up We'll see what happens. Me gusta cantarle al viento Porque vuelan mis cantares Y digo lo que yo siento Por toditos los lugares. Aqu? vine porque vine A la feria de las flores. Aqu? hay una rosa hura? Que es la flor de mis amores.
En mi caballo retinto He venido de muy lejos Y traigo pistola al cinto Y con ella doy consejos. Atraves? la monta? Pa' venir a ver las flores. No hay cerro que se me empine Ni cuaco que se me atore. Aunque otro quiera cortarla Yo la divis? primero Y juro que he de robarla Aunque tenga jardinero. Yo la he de ver trasplantada En el huerto de mi casa. Y si sale el jardinero Pues a ver, a ver que pasa. I like to sing to the winds Because my songs take flight And so I say what I feel To every little place. I came here because I came For the flower fair. Here there is a wild flower That is the flower of my love.