Hey, Zsiványok! What's up? Mamo! Woo-hoo! Balas! Balas! What's this? Woo-hoo! Balas! What's this? Far away from the southern islands, Palm trees and one and a half sheep, In a green skirt, black boots. Mamo, this is not true! Among the grass, the vipers are chirping, This is the citera from a tree in the snow. The summer of last year is still in bloom. Mamo, let's go, don't be late! Hey, ho! What's good? Your blood, your taste! Hey, ho! What's good? Your blood, your taste! Hey, ho! What's good? Your blood, your taste! Hey, ho! What's not good? Your blood, your taste! Where was it, where wasn't it? A strange black man, He was walking all the way to the square. He became thirty-black, And he was eating mangoes. Hey, ho! What's good? Your blood, your taste! Hey, ho! What's not good? Your blood, your taste! Hey, ho! What's good? Your blood, your taste! Far away from the southern islands, Palm trees and one and a half sheep, The Macau is flowing in old money. The captain is cooking allures. How is it? Don't judge me! He always wins the Macau. He doesn't even eat the cocoa back. Hey, ho! Hey, ho! Hey, ho! Hey, ho! Hey, ho! Hey, ho! Hey, ho! Hey, ho!