‘‘ Pal'Beko y Pal'Guavy’’

VOICE 1: The sounds of Montevideo's candombe drums are already echoing through the streets, the Black people are celebrating, the Black people and their brothers. They come from all the neighborhoods, the carnival has begun, today grudges are forgotten, the murga descends to reign. Rhythms that, through time, continue to sound African, to the gods of the night they surrender their love and their song. Palm and leather, leather and palm, song and dream without stopping, palm and leather, leather and palm in the heat of the carnival. Palm and leather, leather and palm, today I only want to dance, palm and leather, leather and palm, tomorrow I return home. The comparsas fill the cante riles with color, and the neighborhood emerges and comes to life to the sound of the drums. A people who always in February rediscover their history of Black people, brown people, mulattos fighting for their freedom. Voices of the past shine, Mandingo, Bantu, Yoruba, and a warrior's cry rises, made of time and moon. Palm and leather, leather and palm, singing and dreaming without stopping, palm and leather, leather and palm in the heat of the carnival. Palm and leather, leather and palm, today I only want to dance, palm and leather, leather and palm, tomorrow I return to your home, tomorrow I return to your home, tomorrow I return to your home, tomorrow I return to your home.

VOZ 1: Ya se escuchan por la calles
candombes montevideanos,
los negros están de fiesta,
los negros y sus hermanos.

Vienen de todos los barrios
ya comienza el carnaval,
hoy se olvidan los rencores
baja la murga a reinar.

Ritmos que al paso del tiempo
siguen sonando africanos
a los dioses de la noche
rinden su amor y su canto.

Palma y cuero, cuero y palma,
canto y sueño sin parar,
palma y cuero, cuero y palma
al calor del carnaval.

Palma y cuero, cuero y palma,
hoy solo quiero bailar,
palma y cuero, cuero y palma,
mañana vuelvo a su hogar.

Las comparsas van llenando
de color los cante riles,
y el barrio surge y da vida
al son de los tamboriles.

Pueblo que siempre en febrero
su historia vuelve a encontrar
de negros, pardos, mulatos
peleando su libertad.

Brillan voces del pasado,
mandinga, bantú, yoruba,
y un grito guerrero se alza
hecho de tiempo y de luna.

Palma y cuero, cuero y palma,
canto y sueño sin parar,
palma y cuero, cuero y palma
al calor del carnaval.

Palma y cuero, cuero y palma,
hoy solo quiero bailar,
palma y cuero, cuero y palma,
mañana vuelvo a su hogar,
mañana vuelvo a su hogar,
mañana vuelvo a su hogar,
mañana vuelvo a su hogar.