Guantanamera Songtext / Lyric

(I cultivate a white rose
In June and in January
For the sincere friend
Who gives me his hand.) Y para el cruel que me arranca
El corazon con que vivo
Y para el cruel que me arranca
El corazon con que vivo
Cardo ni ortiga cultivo
Cultivo la rosa blanca

(And for the cruel one who would tear out
This heart with which I live.
I cultivate neither thistles nor nettles
I cultivate a white rose.)

Con los pobres de la tierra
Quiero yo mi suerte echar
Con los pobres de la tierra
Quiero yo mi suerte echar
El arroyo de la sierra
Me complace mas que el mar

(With the poor people of this earth,
I want to share my lot.
The little streams of the mountains
Please me more than the sea.)