Ángel Para una Tambora - Juan Luis Guerra

Nunca dejes de sonar mi tambora

archipiélago de toque escondido

eres trueno de una muerte sonora

muerte de madera y chivo.

Nunca dejes de sonar mi tambora

crisantemos despeinados te adornan

y la guira se ha postrado en tu cama

y te roza…

Suena un ángel, viste de tambora

tierra adentro, con la tumbadora

mil luceros, forman tu corona

nunca muere, ey, mi tambora.

Nunca dejes de sonar mi tambora

tu cintura, aroma de aserradero

y derrama de otras manos tu sangre

vé pariendo un tamborero.

Por allá por el estado de Zulia

en la parte norte de Venezuela

le nacieron alas a mi tambora

y ahora vuela…

Por los Andes, sueña mi tambora

tierra adentro, con la tumbadora

mil luceros, forjan tu corona

nunca muere, ey, mi tambora

Suena un ángel, viste de tambora

tierra adentro, con la tumbadora

mil luceros, forman tu corona

nunca muere, ey, mi tambora.

Never stop playing my drum

archipelago of hidden touch

you are thunder of a sonorous death

death of wood and goat.

Never stop playing my drum

disheveled chrysanthemums adorn you

and the guira has prostrated herself in your bed

and touches you…

An angel sounds, dresses as a drum

inland, with the tumbler

a thousand stars, form your crown

never dies, hey, my drummer.

Never stop playing my drum

your waist, scent of sawmill

and spill your blood from other hands

go giving birth to a drummer.

Over there in the state of Zulia

in the northern part of Venezuela

my drummer grew wings

and now fly...

Through the Andes, my drum dreams

inland, with the tumbler

a thousand stars, forge your crown

never dies, hey, my drummer

An angel sounds, dresses as a drum

inland, with the tumbler

a thousand stars, form your crown

never dies, hey, my drummer.