music was omnipresent in our council, which managed to wrap it in space and time .
Among the white mist mortera blind, only the crooked and the singing of a lighthouse vaqueiru are sound for the traveler. The tempo marking the tune ripped cabruñu and break the dawn air in the days of harvest. In the inky blackness of the mine, his throat blackened by coal, sprouts a toná takes the heights. With singing of Regueru, mingle the sweet voice of a girl who washes and tends to green, while the clatter of the mill moxeca beats time to the mill that lets out a song.
Between wins, including cows and goats can hear the notes of a romance that speaks of love and heartache of a noble lady. N'el sol'horro, a tambourine ringed by voice, are timing marks on Sunday, the day of baitchar. The bagpipe moans of a funeral dirge in the thundering voice of the priest's hoarse singing Kyrie and Agnus. Winch, blessed by the cider conservatory in which it approved in the chant tipple without knowing the coda.
That, sing, sing to the wind when pel Bocarón Ruxe Window with letter warning that it is near the nevón. And even to dream, dream the borrachu sing, sing sing good and bad, all called singing.
Quirós air hangs a staff with notes that speak of life, joy, sorrow, struggle, dreams to dream dream to sing. Songs that involve the council in time, songs that were on the road, the cliffs and in the air, from grandparents to grandparents to let parents to teach children. The musicians of today are children, grandchildren and great grandchildren of those musicians of yesteryear own name or anonymous Pedroveya of Las Chanas left hangs a wind sing. Quirós starts with Q, adorned clef and just as above the staff, with the S that starts the silence after the song.
