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On the banks of the river
Rosita was washing clothes
neither work nor summer
withered her little face
of all that village
she was the prettiest .
The peasants sang
when they came to her
for her love they fought
for her they could die
all of them adored
that April rose.
br/>Time passed like this
when the roses are reborn
but that tragic day
things changed a lot
tragedy is the company
of beautiful women.
Intermediate
That day dawned
cloudy in the sky
Rosita to the lower river
carrying her cargo
a man approached her
carrying a bad thought.
Rosita from my soul
that rancher told her
how I was waiting for this day
to tell you that I love you
now you have to be mine
o I die trying.
Under that oak tree
in that place grew
that morbid peasant
Rosita was mocked
then he threw her into the whirlpool
and the river took her away.