Cornetín

Tarí, Tarí.
He is appealed by Roque Barullo
driver of the Nacional.

With his tramway, without fourth gear or cinchón,
he knows how to cross the Cuyo ravine.
The bugle, hanging from a piolín,
and in the buttonhole a medallion of yuyo.

Tari, tari.
and the horn ready to lullaby
if there is calico in a hallway.

Calá, how pretty the girl is,
Calá, sweeping the sidewalk,
Look, look how well it suits her,
Look, look, the little pink skirt.
Slow down, the old lady's coming up,
slow down because she's complaining,
if she's on the move.
Calá, calá the wind is blowing,
calá, calá calamidad.

Tarí, tarí,
trots the yoke,
pigeons flapping in the neighborhood.

Talan, ting-a-ling,
the bell rings
of the mayoral
jokingly ringing
and the driver
punishes without stopping
to pass
the hill without a fuss
Tari, tari,
that maybe he'll see,
any wench from a doorway

How pretty is the wench,
sweeping the sidewalk,
look how well she looks,
her little pink skirt.
Slow down, the old lady is coming up,
Brake because she's complaining
if she's on the move,
Calla, calla, calla, the wind is blowing,
Calla, calla, calla calamity.

Tarí, Tarí.
Drives Roque Barullo
of the National line.