Classic Poem

How cold the snow
comes down, comes down.
The mountain's snow
came to Popayán.
How cold it'll make
the newborn one.

Shepherds, come,
it's time to be gone.
The Virgin Mother
expects us soon.
She wants to show us
her Holy Son.

With sweets and flowers,
village girls run
to see the child
born in Popayán
who'll reign on earth
over everyone.

From all over earth
men come to town
to kneel and pray
to the newborn son.
If you want the Lord,
he's in Popayán.