‘‘ Domitila’’

My mulatto sent me to the quimbamba 

because I ran for the party

My mulatto sent me to the quimbamba, wow, 

because I ran for the party

To dance pachanga for the quimbamba

to dance pachanga for the quimbamba

But my mulatto says that she loves it instead of a good rumba, 

dance the samba 

But my mulatto says that she loves it instead of a good rumba, 

dance the samba 

To dance pachanga for the quimbamba

to dance pachanga for the quimbamba

Seeing that my mulatto has already turned ocamba

Happy, I went off to pick taro. 

Seeing that my mulatto has already turned ocamba

happy I went to pick taro

To dance pachanga for the quimbamba 

to dance pachanga for the quimbamba 

Because my mulatto swims for me. 

For the quimbamba

And I'm going on a spree

For the quimbamba

No, no, no, because she sends me

For the quimbamba

Where are you going, Domitila, where are you going? 

Where are you going, with Manila shawl

where are you going? Where are you going, Domitila, where are you going? 

Where are you going, with Manila shawl, where are you going?

Dance the rumba, the guaracha and the danzón, hang up the shawl, 

come and dance chachachá, Domitila

Where are you going, Domitila, where are you going? 

Where are you going, with Manila shawl, where are you going?

Where are you going, with Manila shawl, where are you going? 

Where are you going, Domitila, where are you going? Where are you going, with Manila shawl, where are you going?

Hey, don't criticize me anymore, because you

You don't know about love

And you, you don't understand me, 

Maybe you don't understand what love is 

Look, it's something sublime that not even I

I can explain to you.

I only know that it is beautiful and divine, 

a little cunning but emotional

Hey, don't criticize me anymore, because you 

You don't know about love

And you, you don't understand me, 

Maybe you don't understand what love is, 

what is love, what is love

Don't criticize me, don't criticize me, don't criticize me because you don't know about love

I don't know why you love to criticize, 

Yes, I found out, my baby, that you, you don't know, you don't know, you don't know how to kiss

Don't criticize me, don't criticize me, don't criticize me because you don't know about love

Enough of criticizing and come dance the son that I expect from you, mulatto, to guaracha from the heart

Don't criticize me, don't criticize me

don't criticize me because you don't know about love

Mi mulata me mandó para la quimbamba 

porque yo me le corrí para la pachanga

Mi mulata me mandó para la quimbamba, caramba, 

porque yo me le corrí para la pachanga

A bailar pachanga para la quimbamba

a bailar pachanga para la quimbamba

Pero dice mi mulata que a ella le encanta en vez de una buena rumba, 

bailar la samba. 

Pero dice mi mulata que a ella le encanta en vez de una buena rumba, 

bailar la samba. 

A bailar pachanga para la quimbamba

a bailar pachanga para la quimbamba

Al ver que ya mi mulata se ha puesto ocamba

contento yo me marché a recoger malanga. 

Al ver que ya mi mulata se ha puesto ocamba

contento yo me marché a recoger malanga

A bailar pachanga para la quimbamba 

a bailar pachanga para la quimbamba 

Porque mi mulata me nada. 

Para la quimbamba

Y yo me le voy de parranda

Para la quimbamba

No, no, no, que porque ella me manda

Para la quimbamba

¿Dónde vas, Domitila, dónde vas? 

¿Dónde vas, con mantón de Manila

dónde vas? ¿Dónde vas, Domitila, dónde vas? 

¿Dónde vas, con mantón de Manila, dónde vas?

Baila la rumba, la guaracha y el danzón, cuelga el mantón, 

ven y baila chachachá, Domitila

¿Dónde vas, Domitila, dónde vas? 

¿Dónde vas, con mantón de Manila, dónde vas? 

Pero dime ¿qué hay, que no te quites el mantón? 

¿vas a Pekín, a Nankín o a Hong Kong? Domitila

¿Dónde vas, Domitila, dónde vas? 

¿Dónde vas, con mantón de Manila, dónde vas? 

¿Dónde vas, Domitila, dónde vas? ¿Dónde vas, con mantón de Manila, dónde vas?

Oye, tú no me critiques más, porque tú

No sabes de amor

Y es que tú, tú no me comprendes, 

será que no entiendes lo que es el amor 

Mira, es algo sublime que ni yo

Te puedo explicar.

Sólo sé que es bello y divino, 

un poco ladino pero emocional

Oye, tú no me critiques más, porque tú 

No sabes de amor

Y es que tú, tú no me comprendes, 

será que no entiendes lo que es el amor, 

lo que es el amor, lo que es el amor

No me critiques, no me critiques, no me critiques que tú no sabes de amor

Yo no sé por qué te encanta a ti criticar, 

si yo me enteré, mi nena, que tú, no sabes, no sabes, no sabes besar

No me critiques, no me critiques, no me critiques que tú no sabes de amor

Basta ya de criticar y ven a bailar el son que yo te espero, mulata, para guarachar de corazón

No me critiques, no me critiques

no me critiques que tú no sabes de amor