El Rey Pobre

In my land I feel like a king
A poor king but still a king
My castle is my little mud hut
And my kingdom all that I can see

For a crown I have the face of the Sun
And for a cape, an uncombed ruana
My scepter is the handle of my hoe
And my throne a grinding stone

My queen is the beauty of my wife
Two little ones, my princess and my aide-de-camp
My page is a brown donkey
At the same time my chief advisor

For a crown I have the face of the Sun
And for a cape, an uncombed ruana
My scepter is the handle of my hoe
And my throne a grinding stone

My guards are a little dog and a mouse
My walls, a foundation and a walnut tree
My shield is the wings of the heart
And my servants, three hens and an oriole

For a crown I have the face of the Sun
And for a cape, an uncombed ruana
My scepter is the handle of my hoe
And my throne a grinding stone

For all that I feel like a king
Simply by making an illusion
By having hope to live
And knowing that dreams are just dreams

For a crown I have the face of the Sun
And for a cape, an uncombed ruana
My scepter is the handle of my hoe
And my throne a grinding stone