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Why Do We Factor? Introduction to Factoring Polynomials: The Language of Mathematics IIIb (105) - [Update]

Table of Contents: Language of Mathematics, Math in Real Life

Update: I contacted Horeja and asked them if they could send me the lyrics, both in English and Spanish, to "El Guillatún", the track sampled in this video. They kindly obliged, and I have now included the lyrics below.





Lyrics to "El Guillatún" by Horeja

    English:

    Millelche is sad with the tempest
    The wheat lies down on the mud
    The indians resolve after crying
    Talk with Isidro, with God and Saint John
    With God and St. John
    With God and St. John

    The machi walks for the guillatún
    Chamal and revoso, trailonco and cultrúm
    And even the sick ones of her machitún
    Enlarge the rows of that guillatún
    Of that guillatún, of that guillatún

    The rain that falls and falls again
    The indians look at it without knowing what to do
    They tear out their hair, they break their feet
    Because the harvest is going going to get ruined
    It's going to get ruined

    The indians gather at a large yard
    With the instruments a song broke out
    The machi repeats the word sun
    And the echo of the field increases her voice
    Increases her voice

    The king of heavens heard well
    Scares away the winds to another region
    Undid the clouds and then lied down
    The indians cover it with a prayer
    With a prayer

    The smell of meat and muday can be felt
    Cinnamon, orange, bark of quillay
    The festival ends with dawn
    They saved the chant, the dance and the bread
    The dance and the bread, the dance and the bread.


    Spanish:

    Millelche está triste con el temporal
    los trigos se acuestan en este barrial
    los indios resuelven después de llorar
    hablar con Isidro, con Dios y San Juan.

    Camina la machi para el guillatún
    chamal y revoso, trailonco y cultrúm,
    y hasta los enfermos de su machitún
    aumentan las filas de aquel guillatún,
    de aquel guillatún, de aquel guillatún.

    La lluvia que cae y vuelve a caer
    los indios la miran sin hallar qué hacer
    se arrancan el pelo, se rompen los pies,
    porque las cosechas se van a perder,
    se van perder.

    Se juntan los indios en una corralón
    con los instrumentos rompió una canción,
    la machi repite la palabra sol
    y el eco del campo le sube la voz, le sube la voz.

    El rey de los cielos muy bien escuchó
    remonta los vientos para otra región,
    deshizo las nubes, después se acostó,
    Los indios la cubren con una oración,
    con una oración.

    Se siente el perfume de carne y muday
    canelo, naranjo, corteza e' quillay,
    termina la fiesta con el aclarar,
    guardaron el canto, el baile y el pan,
    el baile y el pan, el baile y el pan.