Me gustan las mañanas campesinas
Miel dulcita, suave brisa de las flores
Los pájaros de todos los colores
Felices van cantando sus amores
Y en mi ranchito
Me paso la vida entera disfrutando a mi manera de aquel lugar tan bonito
Hecho a mi alcance
Distante de la ciudad donde con tranquilidad podré vivir
Mi romance
Ay, lay, la, lay, en un riachuelo cercano, me voy a bañar de tarde
Con el agua fresquesita
Nacida en los manantiales
Todo lo sano del campo se me ha metido en la sangre y me corre por las venas
Igual que a un potro salvaje
Sin montura, sin bozal, ni lindero que lo ataje
Por eso me identifico con lo verde del follaje
Con lo puro de la brisa que va peinando al paisaje
Con el cuatro bullanguero y el sonar de su cordaje
Con la kirpa y la chipola, con el corrío y el pasaje
Allí se queda plasmada la esencia de mi mensaje
Que tiene fibra de indio por su temple y su coraje
Howdy my Hive and #openmic friends, what a pleasure to be with you again sharing in this week of opportunities. A great track to have new creativities 😄🤠🇻 In this week number 133 I will be performing a very nice llanero track called (romance campesino) by our Venezuelan singer Reynaldo Armas. The theme tells the life of the countryside, very quiet, a pure, healthy and fresh environment, where you live without worries. This is how the artist tells it in his song. I hope you like it and give me your support. Thank you and blessings to all💖💖🇪🤝👍🤠
I like the peasant mornings
Sweet honey, soft breeze of the flowers
Birds of all colors
Happy they go singing their loves
And in my little ranch
I spend my whole life enjoying in my own way this beautiful place
Made within my reach
Away from the city where I can live in peace and quiet
My romance
Ay, lay, la, la, lay, in a nearby creek, I'm going to bathe in the afternoon
With the cool water
Born in the springs
All the wholesomeness of the countryside has entered my blood and runs through my veins
Like a wild colt
With no saddle, no muzzle, no fence to hold him back
That's why I identify myself with the green of the foliage
With the purity of the breeze that combs the landscape
With the boisterous cuatro and the sound of its cordage
With the quirpa and the chipola, with the corrío and the pasaje
There the essence of my message is embodied
That has the fiber of an Indian for his mettle and his courage
