Antonio Vargas Heredia
Con un clavel grana sangrando en la boca,
con una varita de mimbre en la mano,
por una verea que llega hasta el rio
iba Antonio Vargas Heredia el gitano.
Entre los naranjos la luna lunera
ponia en su frente su luz de azahar
y cuando apuntaban las claras del dia
llevaba reflejos del verde olivar, del verde olivar.
Antonio Vargas Heredia,
flor de la raza cale,
cayo el mimbre de tu mano
y de tu boca el clavel,
y de tu boca el clavel.
De Puente Geni a Lucena, de Loja a Benameji,
de Puente Geni a Lucena, de Loja a Benameji,
las mocitas de Sierra Morena
se mueren de pena llorando por ti.
Antonio Vargas Heredia
se mueren de pena llorando por ti.
Era Antonio Vargas Heredia el gitano
el mas arrogante y el mejor plantao,
y por los contornos de Sierra Morena
no lo hubo mas bueno, mas guapo ni honrao.
Pero por curpita de una hembra gitana
su faca en el pecho de un hombre se hundio,
los celos malditos nublaron sus ojos
y preso en la trena de rabio lloro, de rabia lloro.
Antonio Vargas Heredia,
flor de la raza cale,
cayo el mimbre de tu mano
y de tu boca el clavel,
y de tu boca el claval.
De Puente Geni a Lucena, de Loja a Benameji,
de Puente Geni a Lucena, de Loja a Benameji,
las mocitas de Sierra Morena
se mueren de pena llorando por ti.
Antonio Vargas Heredia,
se mueren de pena llorando por ti.
Antonio Vargas Heredia
With a bleeding red carnation in his mouth,
with a willow stick in his hand,
through a path that leads to the river
went Antonio Vargas Heredia the gypsy.
Among the orange trees, the moonlight
cast its orange blossom glow on his forehead
and when the dawn broke clear
he carried reflections of the green olive grove, of the green olive grove.
Antonio Vargas Heredia,
flower of the Cale race,
your willow stick fell from your hand
and the carnation from your mouth,
and the carnation from your mouth.
From Puente Geni to Lucena, from Loja to Benameji,
from Puente Geni to Lucena, from Loja to Benameji,
the girls of Sierra Morena
are dying of sorrow crying for you.
Antonio Vargas Heredia
are dying of sorrow crying for you.
Antonio Vargas Heredia the gypsy
was the most arrogant and the best dressed,
and throughout the surroundings of Sierra Morena
there was no one better, more handsome, or more honorable.
But because of a gypsy woman’s whim
his knife sank into a man’s chest,
the cursed jealousy clouded his eyes
and trapped in jail, he cried in rage, cried in rage.
Antonio Vargas Heredia,
flower of the Cale race,
your willow stick fell from your hand
and the carnation from your mouth,
and the carnation from your mouth.
From Puente Geni to Lucena, from Loja to Benameji,
from Puente Geni to Lucena, from Loja to Benameji,
the girls of Sierra Morena
are dying of sorrow crying for you.
Antonio Vargas Heredia,
are dying of sorrow crying for you.