From Alto Cedro I go to Marcané
I arrive in Cueto, I go to Mayarí
When Juanica and Chan Chan
were sifting sand at the sea
The way she shook the sifter
made Chan Chan sad
Clean the road of straws
because I want to sit down
on that tree trunk that I see
And that way I can’t arrive
From Alto Cedro I go to Marcané
I arrive in Cueto, I go to Mayarí