Coplas de La Cocina
Ay ay ay, ay ay ay
Mientras cocino yo canto, sí
Como ojito de papa son las penitas
De afuera se ve poco de lo que habita
Adentro de la papa, sola, solita
Cuando pelo cebolla, capa por capa
Parece que desnudo alguna palabra
No sé si llorar de pena o de asombrada
Si en la paila de cobre baila algún dulce
Lo muevo despacito que no se asuste
Y la fruta regale todo el perfume
Qué comería el diablo cada mañana
Para tener la cola tan colorada
Ajicito le han dado, mala palabra
Porque juegan en ella todas las letras
Y cabellos de un ángel la hacen espesa
Ay sopita caliente, quién la tuviera
Ay ay ay, ay ay ay
Mientras cocino yo canto, sí
Kitchen Verses
Ay ay ay, ay ay ay
While I cook, I sing, yes
Like little eyes of potato are the sorrows
From the outside, you see little of what lives
Inside the potato, alone, all alone
When I peel onion, layer by layer
It seems like I undress some word
I don't know if to cry from sorrow or from astonishment
If in the copper pot dances some sweet
I move it slowly so it doesn't get scared
And the fruit gives away all its perfume
What would the devil eat every morning
To have such a red tail
They have given him a little chili, curse word
Because all the letters play in it
And angel's hair makes it thick
Oh, hot soup, who had it
Ay ay ay, ay ay ay
While I cook, I sing, yes
Escrita por: Analía Garcetti