Las 3 huastecas
Para hablar de la Huasteca, hay que haber nacido allá
Saborear la carne seca, con traguitos de mezcal
Fumar cigarrito de hoja, prenderlo con pedernal
Y aquel que mejor lo moja, mas largo lo fumara
Esa Huasteca, yo no se lo que tendrá
El que una vez la conoce, regresa y se queda allá
Huasteca linda, yo no te podré olvidar
Si nací con tu querencia, y nací con tu cantar
La Huasteca Potosina, tiene flores de a montón
Sierras llenas de neblina, y laderas de ilusión
En la Huasteca Hidalguense, no se alquila el corazón
Aquel que no diga dispense, no amanece en su colchón
Esa Huasteca, quien sabe lo que tendrá
El que una vez la conoce, regresa y se queda allá
Huasteca linda, yo no te podré olvidar
Si nací con tu querencia, y nací con tu cantar
Huasteca Veracruzana, que se arrulla con el mar
Que canta con las montañas, y se duerme en el palmar
Se lazan toros ladinos, corriendo por el breñal
Mientras lloran los violines, guapangueando en el corral
Esa Huasteca, yo no se lo que tendrá
El que una vez la conoce, regresa y se queda allá
Huasteca linda, yo no te podré olvidar
Si nací con tu querencia, y nací con tu cantar
The 3 Huastecas
To talk about the Huasteca, one must have been born there
Savor the dried meat, with sips of mezcal
Smoke a leaf cigarette, light it with flint
And the one who wets it best, will smoke it longer
That Huasteca, I don't know what it has
Whoever knows it once, returns and stays there
Beautiful Huasteca, I won't be able to forget you
If I was born with your affection, and I was born with your singing
The Huasteca Potosina, has plenty of flowers
Mountains full of mist, and slopes of illusion
In the Huasteca Hidalguense, hearts are not rented
Those who don't say sorry, don't wake up in their bed
That Huasteca, who knows what it has
Whoever knows it once, returns and stays there
Beautiful Huasteca, I won't be able to forget you
If I was born with your affection, and I was born with your singing
Huasteca Veracruzana, that lulls with the sea
That sings with the mountains, and sleeps in the palm grove
Sly bulls are lassoed, running through the brush
While the violins cry, playing guapangos in the corral
That Huasteca, I don't know what it has
Whoever knows it once, returns and stays there
Beautiful Huasteca, I won't be able to forget you
If I was born with your affection, and I was born with your singing