Cala a Boca, Bárbara

He knows the ways of this land of mine
He hid in my body, he walked through my woods
My rivers, my arms
He is my warrior on the earth mattresses
On the flags, good sheets
In the trenches, how many woes, woes

Shut up – look at the fire!
Shut up – look at the grass!
Shut up, Barbara
Shut up, Barbara
Shut up, Barbara
Shut up, Barbara

He would know the secrets that no one teaches
Where do I keep my pleasure, in which swamps do I drink
In the ebb tide, the currents
In iron mattresses he is my partner
In the campaigns, in the corrals
In the entrails, how many alas, alas

Shut up – look at the night!
Shut up – look at the cold!
Shut up, Barbara
Shut up, Barbara
Shut up, Barbara
Shut up, Barbara
Shut up, Barbara
Shut up, Barbara
Shut up, Barbara