Domingo Ferreiro
Porque están llenas de sangre las rías
Porque no quiero, no quiero, no quiero
Y se secaron los ramos floridos
Que ella traía en la falda del viento
Que ella traía a su novio soldado
O pescador, labrador, marinero
Sobre galicia ha caído la peste
Ay, los oscuros sargentos vinieron
Están colgando en los pinos los hombres
Toca la gaita, no quiero, no quiero
Nuestros hermanos que están allá abajo
Pronto vendrán a vengar a los muertos
Pronto vendrán en mitad del verano
Pronto vendrán en mitad del invierno
El que no ha muerto andará por el monte
Y en las aldeas cayeron los buenos
Ay, que no vayan los lobos al monte
Toca la gaita, no quiero, no quiero
Ya llegarán las valientes milicias
Para acabar con la hez del desierto
Ya llegarán en mitad de la historia
Ya llegarán en mitad de los tiempos
Toca la gaita ¡que baile el obispo!
Toca la gaita, no quiero, no quiero
Porque no es hora de fiesta en España
Porque no quiero, no quiero, no quiero
Ya llegarán los soldados leales
Para acabar con los pájaros negros
Ya llegarán en mitad de la biblia
Ya llegarán en mitad de los muertos
Toca la gaita
¡Que baile la víbora!
Toca la gaita, no quiero, no quiero
Porque la gaita no quiere que toque
Porque se ha muerto domingo ferreiro
Sunday Ferreiro
Because the estuaries are full of blood
Because I don't want to, I don't want to, I don't want to
And the flowery branches dried up
That she carried in the wind's lap
That she carried to her soldier boyfriend
Or fisherman, farmer, sailor
The plague has fallen over Galicia
Oh, the dark sergeants came
The men are hanging from the pines
Play the bagpipe, I don't want to, I don't want to
Our brothers who are down there
Will soon come to avenge the dead
They will soon come in the middle of summer
They will soon come in the middle of winter
Those who haven't died will walk through the mountains
And in the villages, the good ones fell
Oh, may the wolves not go to the mountains
Play the bagpipe, I don't want to, I don't want to
The brave militias will come
To finish off the scum of the desert
They will come in the middle of history
They will come in the middle of times
Play the bagpipe, let the bishop dance!
Play the bagpipe, I don't want to, I don't want to
Because it's not a time for celebration in Spain
Because I don't want to, I don't want to, I don't want to
The loyal soldiers will come
To finish off the black birds
They will come in the middle of the Bible
They will come in the middle of the dead
Play the bagpipe
Let the viper dance!
Play the bagpipe, I don't want to, I don't want to
Because the bagpipe doesn't want to be played
Because Sunday Ferreiro has died
Escrita por: Raúl González Tuñón