A la Molina no voy más

I'm not going to Molina anymore

Yuca from San Borja
samorengue sa
to go to saña
oh! how delicious it is.

I'm not going to Molina anymore
because they whip incessantly.

Tomasa ate
and Pascual drank
they had thirty children
Jesus, what a barbarity,
they were slaves
against their will,
for fear that the master
would whip them.

Go, little donkey, go,
what a demon of a donkey
that doesn't want to walk
because of this donkey
the boss will whip me.

And the poor little black ones suffered so much
with little food
and a lot of work
until from heaven
Don Ramón Castilla came
holy freedom.