Testi Soundtracks :: L
Lost City (The) - Macorina (Orquesta Sensacion / Abelardo Barroso)
Ponme la mano aquà Macorina
ponme la mano aquÃ
Tus pies dejaban la estera
y se escapaba tu saya
buscando la guardarraya
que al ver tu talle tan fino
las cañas azucareras
se echaban por el camino
para que tú las molieras
como si fueses molino
Ponme...
Tus senos carne de anón
tu boca una bendición
de guanabana madura
y era tu bella cintura
la misma de aquel danzón
Caliente de aquel danzón
Ponme...
Después el amanecer
que de mis brazos te lleva
y yo sin saber qué hacer
de aquel olor a mujer
a mango y a caña nueva
con que me llevaste al son
caliente de aquel danzón
************
English:
Touch me here, Macorina,
Touch me
Your feet floated up from the floor
and your skirt slipped from my hold
as you went searching for the pathway
Upon seeing your lovely shape
the sugar canes
cast themselves in the road
hoping you would grind them
as though you were a mill.
Touch me...
Your breasts, flesh of a breadfruit
your mouth, a blessing
of ripe guanabana
and your beautiful, curvy waist
reminding me of that "danzón"
I'm still simmering, from the "danzón"
Touch me?
Afterwards the dawn
takes you from my arm
And I, not knowing what to do
About that scent of woman,
Of mango, and of fresh sugarcane
That brought me to the hot
Jam of that dance
ponme la mano aquÃ
Tus pies dejaban la estera
y se escapaba tu saya
buscando la guardarraya
que al ver tu talle tan fino
las cañas azucareras
se echaban por el camino
para que tú las molieras
como si fueses molino
Ponme...
Tus senos carne de anón
tu boca una bendición
de guanabana madura
y era tu bella cintura
la misma de aquel danzón
Caliente de aquel danzón
Ponme...
Después el amanecer
que de mis brazos te lleva
y yo sin saber qué hacer
de aquel olor a mujer
a mango y a caña nueva
con que me llevaste al son
caliente de aquel danzón
************
English:
Touch me here, Macorina,
Touch me
Your feet floated up from the floor
and your skirt slipped from my hold
as you went searching for the pathway
Upon seeing your lovely shape
the sugar canes
cast themselves in the road
hoping you would grind them
as though you were a mill.
Touch me...
Your breasts, flesh of a breadfruit
your mouth, a blessing
of ripe guanabana
and your beautiful, curvy waist
reminding me of that "danzón"
I'm still simmering, from the "danzón"
Touch me?
Afterwards the dawn
takes you from my arm
And I, not knowing what to do
About that scent of woman,
Of mango, and of fresh sugarcane
That brought me to the hot
Jam of that dance
