Yo Voy Soñando Caminos

I'm dreaming of paths in the afternoon
the golden hills, the green pines
and the oaks...
Where will the path go?
Where will the path go?
I'm singing, traveler
along the path...
The afternoon is falling...
The afternoon is falling...

In my heart I had
the thorn of a passion.
I managed to pull it out one day,
I no longer feel my heart
and all the field, for a moment,
falls silent and gloomy, meditating.
The wind sounds
in the poplars by the river.

The evening darkens more
and the winding path
that faintly whitens,
becomes murky and disappears.
My singing turns to lament...