Bamberas

Oh, how it shone!
Oh, how it shines!
Oh, how the married woman sways!
Oh, how pale
The sad married woman!

Oh, how she moans among the branches!
Poppy and carnation you will be later,
When the male unfolds his cape.

Seven times she moaned,
Nine times she rose.
Fifteen times they gathered
Jasmines with oranges.

If you come to the pilgrimage
To ask for your belly to open,
Don't wear a mourning veil,
Without a sweet holland shirt.

Go alone behind the walls,
Where the fig trees are closed,
And endure my body of earth
Until the white moan of dawn.

And then the night came.
Oh, the night was coming!
Look how dark it gets
The stream from the mountain.