Granada

Granada, the land I dream of
My song turns gypsy when it's for you
My song, made of fantasy,
My song, a flower of melancholy
That I come to give you.

Granada, a land stained with blood on bullfighting afternoons;
Woman who holds the charm of dark-eyed beauty,
I dream of you in green and gypsy, covered in flowers
And I kiss your early lips with worldly use
That speaks to me of love.

Chorus:
Granada, Manola sung in precious verses
I have nothing else to give you but a bouquet of roses
Of roses with a sweet fragrance
That framed the dark-haired virgin
Granada, your land is full
Of beautiful women, of blood and of sun.