Pandero - Al Andaluz Project

Tocaria jo el pandero

Lere lere lere lere

Però m’han de convidar

Per a tocar el pandero

Colpejant amb tant coratge

Mentre ve el vers a la boca

Ai;

Qui puguera cantar-la

Sense voler, i ballar-la

No podran dir que no sona

Ni que no trempa el tocaor

I si pugués algú hir-ho

Millor que calle

I que es faca el sord

Poc a poc vindrà qui vulga

Lere lere lere lere

Els balladors feinejen

Poc a poc vinga qui vulga

M’enjogasse en una cara

Lere lere lere lere

Ai!, m’ha tornat la mirada

Trastabillege i m’agafe

No podran dir que no sona

Ni que no trempa el tocaor

I si pugués algú hir-ho

Millor que calle

I que es faca el sord

Emmordasseu la veu

Que diu que no quan és que sí

Si vols pa tin vi

S’haureu d’endur el mal dormir

Que ací no es ve a patir

Si vols pa tin vi

Apofiteu la bonanca

I que nitefeja i fa calma

Escampat el blat a l’era

I al camp la palla cremada

Que no fredeja encara

I que en tenim de grat

Per a festejar

No podran dir que no sona

Ni que no trempa el tocaor

I si pugués algú hir-ho

Millor que calle

I que es faca el sord

Si no es capgira la feina

I no es cpfica el que paga

Encara queda prou festa

Arraconeu les cabòries

I feu el buit a les penes

Pegueu-li foc al caldero

No podran dir que no sona

Ni que no trempa el tocaor

I si pugués algú hir-ho

Millor que calle

I que es faca el sord

I would play the tambourine

Lere lere lere lere

But they have to invite me

To play the tambourine

Hitting with so much courage

As the verse comes into his mouth

Ai;

Who could sing it

Unintentionally, and dance it

They can't say it doesn't sound

Not that it soaks the tocaor

And if anyone could hurt me

Better a poor horse than no horse at all

And let him become deaf

Little by little whoever comes will come

Lere lere lere lere

The dancers work

Little by little, whoever wants to come

He would throw me in the face

Lere lere lere lere

Alas, my gaze has returned

Read me and catch me

They can't say it doesn't sound

Not that it soaks the tocaor

And if anyone could hurt me

Better a poor horse than no horse at all

And let him become deaf

Bite your voice

That he says no when he does

If you want no wine

You just have to be more discriminating with the help you render toward other people

That here one does not come to suffer

If you want no wine

Take advantage of the bonanza

And it's snowing and it's calm

Scattered wheat in the era

And in the field the burnt straw

That doesn't cool yet

And we like it

To celebrate

They can't say it doesn't sound

Not that it soaks the tocaor

And if anyone could hurt me

Better a poor horse than no horse at all

And let him become deaf

If the job is not turned upside down

And it doesn't matter what you pay for

There is still enough party left

Put the crap out

And make the gap in the pains

Set fire to the cauldron

They can't say it doesn't sound

Not that it soaks the tocaor

And if anyone could hurt me

Better a poor horse than no horse at all

And let him become deaf