At the heart of celtiberia
You can taste our finest grapes
The best wine of all the area
And not worse are our ales!

Hear us now, while we sing
And we fill our wineskins
We are all just human beings
And sometimes we need to drink

Now are coming summer times
All fruits grow and grass is high
The sun above the field shines
We must thank her for her light

In the summer will work hard
On our fine and vast vineyards
The vintager under the sun
Once the harvest has begun

Gods of ages, keep our health
One thing we want to beg:
Give us your blessing with this praise
And let's drink to celebrate!

Creels of grapes from the harvest past
The vintagers will step on and smash
Let the juice of the fruits pass
Through your feet while you step on fast

Take a pint and taste this wine
Take some more and drive you wild
Careful not to get too ill
Or you'll fall to the green field!