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.

Students for Sensible Drug Policy
www.ssdp.org

Music by Horeja
www.horeja.cl

Additional Design & Illustration by Per Wessmark
www.wessmark.com

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.