On our website, we have the complete lyrics of the song Arbolé, Arbolé that you were looking for.
Arbolé arbolé
Seco y verdé.
La niña del bello rostro
Está cogiendo aceituna.
El viento, galán de torres,
La prende por la cintura.
Pasaron cuatro jinetes,
Sobre jacas andaluzas
Con trajes de azul y verde,
Con largas capas oscuras.
"Vente a Córdoba, muchacha."
La niña no los escucha.
Pasaron tres torerillos
Delgaditos de cintura,
Con trajes color naranja
Y espadas de plata antigua.
"Vente a Sevilla, muchacha."
La niña no los escucha.
Cuando la tarde se puso
Morada, con luz difusa,
Pasó un joven que llevaba
Rosas y mirtos de luna.
"Vente a Granada, muchacha."
Y la niña no lo escucha.
La niña del bello rostro
Sigue cogiendo aceituna,
Con el brazo gris del viento
Ceñido por la cintura.
Otras canciones de Marta Gómez
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