Don Garci Perez de Vargas,
Spain's proudest knight,
Braving Moors and renegades,
Ride through the countryside!
By his side walks
A companion in a fearful mood!
"Perez," he said, "let's get out of here!"
This way is too slow!
The Moors will kill us, that's clear,
And I care about my life, quite a lot!”
“Me, I need to get some fresh air!”
Perez said, removing his helmet.

At these words, from a hidden path,
Armoured and carrying spears,
Ten horsemen with green turbans
Come out one by one, in silence!
“Saint James! I called it correctly!
Let's save ourselves!” And the bewildered soul,
The treacherous and cursed Companion
Disappears with a broken bridle!
“Good! so much the better!" said Garci Perez.
“Nothing bothers me as much as a coward!”
And in front of the enemy, very close,
He passes, twisting his moustache!

A cockerel, with eyes of diamonds
Shines on his dark shield;
And the Saracens, cautiously,
Have not advanced, although they outnumber!
But as soon as the warrior passes,
One of them, with the tip of his sword,
All triumphant, close together.
The scarf has fallen at his feet!
Blood of Christ! you no longer have it,
My fair lady’s favour!
And Garci, the flower of battle, rushed forward
On the foul people!

Sing glory to Garci Perez!
For at the hour when the star sparkles,
Ten heads with slashed foreheads
Bleeding from the pommel of his saddle!
Ay! Ay! Ay! Sing glory to Garci Perez!
Olé! to Garci Perez!