Vidala de la lluvia
Isabel Parra
Rain Song
The storm's hand is sweeping
across the hills,
the little trees in the woods
are scented with drops of joy.
Before the rain starts crying
its dance on the ground,
I feel in my soul the longing
that your absence leaves behind.
The guitar is weeping
who knows what old sorrows.
The guitar is weeping
and it's calling out your absence.
