Vendimias Moras

To the blackberry harvest, blackberry, blackberry
To the harvest I go to najá
To gather four doubloons
So I don't lack anything

You passed through my thresholds
And night turned into day
You were dying to see me
And now it's me who's dying
The turns the road takes

You were content with seeing me
And in your mouth always no
Great are my hardships
The most unhappy in this world
Is living better than me

I pity myself, poor of the poor
And poor little one who falls asleep
With love, one must be alert
Or they'll be swept away by the current
To stir up
Good thoughts in you
And that you love me again

You let yourself be carried away by the dream of some kisses
Purple tunic and a handkerchief on your face
Owner of a sultan of velvet mosques
She carries tattooed the stars and the winds

She lives chained to the sands of the desert
Owner of a sultan of velvet mosques
To the blackberry harvest, blackberry, blackberry
To the harvest I go to najá
To gather four doubloons
So I don't lack anything