Joven michoacana conmovió a todos cantando «Las Golondrinas» vestida de Catrina en Dia de Muertos Mexico --- ▶ Watch on 3speak.tv
Transcript
Good night. How do you call? I'm Valeria Wirta. I'm 24 years, and I'm from Patskwaro, Michoacan in Mexico. And, yes, I know that I'm painted of Calaver. Let's explain. In my territory, in these feches, we're best we're so to receive to our mortals. And this night, I'm going to receive a man, to my papa. In Patsquaro, the night of The families are up to the pantheon, with flowers of Sempasuchil, with vellas, with the food that they liked to those that they were. And we're all the night with them, platiccating, resando, cantando. From the lago, see many of belittas, printed in the island of Janitio, like if the stars had been back to accompany us. My papa, was called Ramon, was a peskador, of the of those that still, they still, out of the lake of mariposa. I had the most soft of the world, and every night of mortals, since I had five years, me was to the Panteon of the Isla, to visit to my abuelos. We'd get us in the lancho, yeah of the And when all was all ready, my papa, my father, he'd geta the sombrero. I'd say, now, my, my hie, we're going to despedilos, bonito. And we can't we're just, that song of the despededas. He said that the Mewertrins, that night, like the golondrinas, that will be able to his nid, even though it's a ratito, and that there are to cantarles, for that they can't I was a little, and I was a girl, and when we're all, I really, sentia that my abuelos were there, sentados with us between the velas. So, it was every year, 20 years, I grew up, I went to study to Morelia, but the night of Mewertos, never falte. It was our cita, the of my papa and me. The He found some companions floating, tranquillito, with the red still in the hands, so in his lago, doing what more I wanted. I don't put to cantarer in the entierro. I did, I opened the book and no me saw nothing, nothing more, I'd get with that spina clavada, that the last song that he no The year past, in Noche of Mewertos, no, I was in the Panteon. No Pude. Me Killed in my room with the door serrata. My mom was alone to put her offrenda, and when he went to say one thing, that no That night, I think that he had faileded, that he, that he, completed 20 years, our sita, and I was the first time that I took to me. For that I'm here. This year, no, I want to cantarly back in a rinkon of the Panteon. This year, I want to cantarly, in a This is his sombrero, the same that he was to cantar, still wuele to the lago. And this maquillage, me do my mom, today in the morning, in the hotel, with much careful, as me he was when he was a little. Me, he said, Be, my I and despise what beautiful, as he said, so this night, this scenario is my panteon. These luses are my vellas, and you are my family, the Pardon me for not have been the year past. This year, I can't here, Delante of all, for you, to find the She was in March, with the red mojada, and the lago, still, the loitererer. Cruzo the island, without say nothing. He left his barca, here's here, here's in the moor yet, and I'm Adios, my golondrina, Wulbe to your nido, even this is that day, that here you to see your flower of Sempasuchin, your Vela Blanca, and your little again. Adios, Padre-Kerido, I can't do you, that I'll hear you that the that's going to be that is well-kirited, regressa always with the golondrinas. Me, you're me decisies that the mortals no's not be erred if we just cantamos with the my golondrina, will be at your nido, even this is this time, and here you to see your flower of Sampasuchin, your bell, blank, and your little again, adios, adieu, I'd call for you to call for you that I'll hear you, that the best is well, dearer, regressa always with the columbrina. the car painted, like you me, and in this scenario, I'm a pantheon, with my luses, like you saw you, you sawdhastee. A don't hear of veloose and fatigued, the golondrina, that from here's here, Papa, to my voice enamorada, that's nights with you, cantarer. Bella Blanca and your little bit. Adio, Adio, Adio, oh, dear. That's so forth for that to me oh, is that he's so bad, dearie. Regresses, always with the columbria.