... not up nothing, neither money nor Mr. ...
Andalusians of Jaén
Andaluces de Jaén, harvesters
haughty,
tell me from your soul, who, who got up
olives?
Andaluces Jaén.
Andaluces de Jaén.
not pick them up from nothing,
neither money nor Mr.,
land but quiet,
work and sweat.
pure water and the planets together, the three gave
beauty of the twisted trunks.
Andaluces de Jaén.
Andaluces de Jaén, harvesters
tell me proud in the soul, whose,
of who they are olive trees?
Andaluces de Jaen.
Andaluces de Jaen,
many centuries of olive
the prisoners hands and feet,
sun to sun and moon to moon,
weigh on your bones!
Jaén, get on your brave
moonstones,
're not going to be a slave
with all your olive grove.
Andaluces de Jaen.
Andaluces de Jaén, harvesters
haughty,
tell me from your soul, who,
of who they are olive trees?
Andaluces de Jaen.
Andaluces de Jaén.
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