Flamenco surfaced in Andalucia in the middle of the 19th century.
The mixture of people, religions and cultures created a newtype of music.
Greek rattles, Mozarab jarchas...
Gregorian chants, Castillian romances and Jewish laments...
the sound of blackness and of the gypsy settlers from distant lndia...
all blended to create the musical structure we now call Flamenco.
And it is expressed through song, dance and the guitar.
l've got troubles
yes, l've got troubles
because you're leaving my side
when l'm so in love with you
if you're name is Dolores
why don'tyou jump in the river
and gather camarons in your skirts
they'll come to grief
what are they trying to do
they're just lowlifes swanking around
they don't know what's going on
Mart Pirulero
his cape dragging along the ground ay, he's been hit
there's a door to my soul
that needs no key
l always leave it open
no one can close it on me
you threw a lemon at me and hit me on the forehead
that's what love does to you makes you cheeky
ay, l love you so much
that l just can't punish you
mama, the kitten has scratched me
put it outside put it outside for a while
what a dark street
what darkness
what a pretty girl if her mother would give her to me
there comes Pepe with the coal but l have something else to sell
you always said to me you always said
l shouldn't love you so much you didn't deserve it
l come and see you
white petticoat and skirt
for you, for you l'd die
if you would only come to my side
don't scorn me, gitana
l'm a saint, a good man, gitana
you only want my money, gitana
l'm not going with you anymore, gitana
when the moon comes out l am going to see you
because it lights up my path gitana, for me to love you
sorrow, sorrow, my god
l'm so sad
ay, Jesus of the miracles she's gone and left me
now, l'm going back to my mother, gitana
wherever she wants to take me
you only want my money, gitana
ay, you only want my money, gitana
four Franciscans, four from El Carmen
four from El Carmen four from La Victoria
there they go, twelve friars
that's why you should keep an eye on the lemons in your orchard
l'll marry you, lndiana
if your father finds out
and tells your mother
my gorgeous Cuban girl
l have a house in Havana waiting just for you
ay, with an ivory roof
and a raised floor
for you, my white dove l carry the fleur-de-lys
in the morning
after drinking my coffee
l like to stroll through Havana
with a lighted cigarette
l like to take it easy sitting on a seat or an armchair
and l buy myself a paper
one of the dailies
and l look like a millionaire a rich man of the town
traca tra traca tra ay, ole arsa y toma
tran trabili trabili tran tran tran trabili trabili trero
arsa y toma, arsa y toma trabili tran
ay, lemon seller, give me some lemonade
l'm a gypsy, made of the salt of Cádiz
what made you
wash your face
and brush your hair
when you knew how l was feeling
on the way to Cartuja
before reaching the pine groves
l turned around and looked back
and called out to my mother
ay, what madness
the things l was doing for you
l just wanted to show you
what l was feeling
l'm not
who l was
nor who l was
nor who l should be
l'm like a piece of furniture
sad and ignored
l couldn't
it was a stormy night
l wanted to sleep but l couldn't
l dreamtyou were with someone else
and l even bit my pillow
and almost lost my mind
l fell asleep thinking aboutyou
you're the portrait of heaven itself
l woke up and saw you were not with me
and began to cry my heart out
what is to become of me
my tears were falling
into a glass
but now my tears fall to the floor
because l've cried so much
the glass is full
it's what l love most the fandango is my joy
it's the song l love most
it takes my troubles away
with a fandango from Alosno
and the break of day
why don'tyou come to my side
to my side
you knowthat l love you
butyou don't seem to care about me
people are talking about
how attentive you are
to la ''sancha''
and lies become truth
l grieve so for my mother
how am l going to have another mother like the one l had
l wanted to go on, but he cut me off.
l'll be sentenced to death
if they see me talking to you
my killers can
oh mother of my heart
my killers can
get their knives ready
l'll be sentenced to death
if they see me talking to you
ay, l'm tough as stone
l've been through so much torment and pain
so l wouldn't feel
oh my lover
so l wouldn't feel
the wounds in my heart
ay, l needed to be so tough
ay, how you make me feel
full moon in the sky
wherever you go may the heavens guide you
may God give you good fortune
you make me cry
full moon in the sky
l'd sell the shirt off my back
ay, who wants to buy it
it's going cheap
for your freedom
l'd sell the shirt off my back
who wants to buy it
as l loved her so much
l took her out for a ride
and l held a hat in front of her
to keep the wind off her face
don't torment me any more
because l feel just like that boat
buffeted by the waves
l love you
you want me to love you
butyour husband should love you
it's his duty after all
this old lady with this old lady
she gives me courage because she grumbles
the black ones smell of cheese the young ladies smell of olives
and the pretty gypsy girls smell of ripe pineapple
that's why, that's why, that's why
l don't love you any more now it's more than that
now, yes l love you
because l don't love you you are furious with me now
because you are not my taste hey Manuela, don't scratch me
because l don't love you you are furious with me now
and now, alright
l do love you, l love you l'm going to love you
l'm happy as can be
when you're by my side
if l were to die right now
l don't think l'd feel a thing
you were my true love
and you've gone and left
there was a terrible pain in my soul
when my mother died
when dawn was breaking
my true love
up high on that mountain l cut a reed l cut a flower
working on the land
l want a lad to take the oxen out to plough
but a lad who can play the tambourine too
everyone called her the saint
the girl called Angustina
everyone called her the saint
she goes to the entrance of the mines
and prays for hope
but all hope is lost
l've been left something
my dad has left me an old oil lamp
how wonderful
l dream about him night and day and for twenty reales
l'd sell my lamp which belonged to my father
l dreamt that Sevilla was made of chocolate
and the Giralda of candied pine nuts
and the Torre del Oro of toffee
and the Guadalquivir flowed with anisette
ay, a hunk of bread
what is that shining among the olive groves
it's my girl's eyes
which are like my mother's
there's a brightness in your eyes which l gave you
you took me from the darkness and at my side l saw you suffer
that's why you'll always be mine and l'll be yours
you'll always be what l never expected of anyone
l'll always be atyour side
whether the sun comes out or not
if you want to come, then come
and if not, tell me to go
and don't show me the door
like a pitcher of water l'm leaving you, leaving you
once when Juana asked you to comb her hair
you threwthe combs out of the window
and the day you wanted to comb her hair she said no
you are only worth as much
as the smallest stone on the pavement of my street
ay, mother
the paths were made of water, wind and cold
an old man walked along very sad and troubled
glory to the blessed mother Victoria glory to the new born, glory
they arrived at an inn and asked for shelter
but the wretched innkeeper turned them away, glory
l have no room
and it's two in the morning
no room for a pregnant woman, glory
if you have money
the whole house is yours
but if you have none there's no room, glory
and from there they went and found a crib
and between the ox and the mule the divine word was born, glory
to the blessed mother Victoria glory to the newborn, glory
What do you want to sing? -Whatever you want.
Why don't we do ''The Butterfly''? -Alright.
once upon a time
a white butterfly
who was the queen
of all the butterflies of the dawn
alighted in the gardens
on the most beautiful flowers
and whispered stories to the carnations and the violets
happy little butterfly
so pleased with herself, so flirty
she looked like almond blossom
fluttering in the cool breeze
but the collector came along
one spring morning
and from a jasmine in bloom he took our queen prisoner
he fastened her with pins
on a piece of black card
and took her to his museum of short-lived, dead beauties
the butterflies of the dawn
wept as they flew around the glade
the white butterfly settled in a carnation
but the carnation wasn't pleased white butterfly and red carnations
red like the lips of someone l know
Your hands should move like doves.
Now l'll dance a bit to the singing.
tiriti tran tran tran
tarata tran tran tran tiriti tran tran tran tran
l'm feeling so confused
oh, love of my life
l'm feeling so confused
and l go over the walls
which lead to your doors
the poppy in the field said to the wheat
l'm not marrying anybody l don't know aboutyou
the poppy in the field said to the wheat
when l look at her she cries
l don't know what's the matter with your mother
because when l look at her she cries
l don't know what l should do
when l look at this lady
when she walks along
cinnamon and roses fall to the ground
the bride is arriving shining like the stars
an early rose a white handkerchief
the gypsy girls are dancing to the tango beat
at La Linea Fair
l bought a dapple-grey pony
for my girl to ride
the party is over now
dawn is breaking and the lark is singing
l ripped my shirt so l took it off because it's torn
the gypsy woman of the century gets drunk on the aromas
of the sweets, sweets, sweets the child's sweets
l don't know how
ay, the dimples
ay, the dimples on your face
how can l resist them
in the roots of an olive tree l hid my soul
and the old gypsy woman found it there
weary of so much walking around these lands
l am tired of calling
at the shore of your door because you never answer
my life is my own and your life is yours
why don't we put them together and make them one
once l looked into the well of love
l love you green, yes, yes l love you green, ay, ay, ay
l love you green
green, l love you green green wind, green branch
the boat on the sea the horse on the mountain
with the share on her waist she leans on the balustrade and dreams
green eyes, black hair her body of cold silver
my friend, l want to swap your horse for my house
my saddle for your mirror my knife for your blanket
my friend, l am bleeding l've come from the Puertos de Cabra
and if l were a boy and was striking this deal
my friend, l want to die decently in my bed
and if possible with sheets from Holland
my friend, tell me where she is where is that bitter girl
l waited for her so many times l waited for her so many times
green, l love you green green wind, green branch
the boat on the sea the horse on the mountain
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