technology innovations | March 17, 2026

Celia Cruz Bemba Colora Lyrics English Translation

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On the Havana plain

Between Madruga and Guines

On the Havana plain

Between Madruga and Guines

Like beautiful coma guines

Sings the Havana orchard

How good the red lips are

She really likes a red lip

Run, run, run, run

Red, lip, red

Red, red, red

That's a red lip

A few years ago I left

From my beloved homeland

And I still remember

Its streets and its valleys

I adored its huts

I would grab onto the palm trees

They were always, always roofed

With pieces of old palm leaves

I am a sailor with a good bay

I am a sailor with a good bay

I have four doves

In a basin on a hill

I give them all water

They all take a little sip

None of them get angry

How good my doves are

How good they are

How good they are

How good they are

Oh, red, red

A little bird in its cage

Flies and flies without stopping

Always searching for the sea

If it saw a way to escape

Poor thing, oh, how it suffers

Searching for its freedom, and I

I, like the bird, want

To regain my freedom

Come, come, come, come

Come, come, come, come

Come, come, come, come

What color

What color

What color

What color

What color

They buried in the afternoon

Juan Simón's daughter

Juan Simón was in the town

The only gravedigger, red

He himself, to his own daughter

And you'll see

Took her to the cemetery

He himself dug the grave

Imploring a prayer

Red, in one hand

Begging for a prayer

Colorá, in one hand

In one hand the shovel

And in the other the hoe

And when they asked him

Where do you come from Juan Simón

And he said, I am a gravedigger

and I come to

I am an undertaker and I come to

Jaime Serrada's sweat drops

I get them

Turn it up Pedro, turn it up, turn it up

Oh colora, oh colorao'

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