La Hormiguita Lyrics in English Juan Luis Guerra

Below, I translated the lyrics of the song La Hormiguita by Juan Luis Guerra from Spanish to English.
I met her one afternoon
With her guitar she hunted boleros
She was wearing jeans
And a little yellow rose in her hair
What are you going to do?
She asked me smiling
Whatever you want, I replied
We went to the sea and we soaked our dreams
I winked my eyes, and a dolphin
Painted a rippled wave on her chest
Then I laughed
And we broke the ice
We bit our fingers
Like a viola in a cello solo
You are like a little ant
That kisses me and stings me
That travels along my back
And lies down in my beard
To study geography
You are like a trapeze artist
That crosses my tongue
And your circus of flowers
Lifts me and drops me
Losing count
Losing count
And I felt like crying
But only in my right eye
She talked about the moon and about Chopin
And I played the prelude of a kiss
Then I laughed
And we broke the ice
We bit our fingers
Like a viola in a cello solo
You are like a little ant
That kisses me and stings me
That travels along my back
And lies down in my beard
To study geography
You are like a trapeze artist
That crosses my tongue
And your circus of flowers
Lifts me and drops me
Losing count
Losing count
Lyrics and Translations Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Juan Luis Guerra
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SONG MEANING

Picture a laid-back afternoon in the Dominican Republic: a young woman in jeans, a yellow rose tucked in her hair, and a guitar slung over her shoulder meets the narrator. From the very first playful question, their connection is drenched in music and tropical imagery. They stroll to the shoreline, trade smiles with the dolphins, and melt the initial shyness in a whirl of boleros, Chopin references, and the salty breeze. Juan Luis Guerra turns this chance encounter into a mini movie where every sight, sound, and touch feels like a new verse waiting to be sung.

What makes La Hormiguita so irresistible is its cascade of inventive metaphors. The woman becomes a “hormiguita”—a tiny ant that tickles, bites, and charts the geography of his body—and then a daring “trapecista” swinging across his tongue, sending senses flying like a circus of flowers. These playful images capture the fizzy sensation of first love: unexpected, electric, and impossible to measure (“perdiendo la cuenta”). Beneath the whimsical poetry lies a simple truth: when music and affection intertwine, even the smallest moments feel epic, and the heart’s map gains brand-new territories to explore.

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