Habanera Triste
La Ronda De Boltaña
Sad Habanera
My house was a sailing ship
Every time mother did the laundry
With sails of white sheets
Hanging in the winds of these mountains
A stone ship in the valley
Anchored centuries ago on the banks of the Ara
Facing the island of La Velilla
And between the coasts of Fiscal and Boltaña
Who would have told me
That I dreamed of the sea
That in a damn swamp, ayayay
My house would shipwreck
I say goodbye to Jánovas
To La Velilla and Lacort
Goodbye, sunken little boats, goodbye
My poor country, goodbye
And although many years have passed
I will never be able to forget that morning
When I discovered that not only in stories
Pirates still exist
When they boarded
The town and we had to leave home
And seeing mother's tears
My childhood sank suddenly
Who would have told me
That I dreamed of the sea
That in a damn swamp, ayayay
My house would shipwreck
I say goodbye to Jánovas
To La Velilla and Lacort
Goodbye, sunken little boats, goodbye
My poor country, goodbye
Will-o'-the-wisps among the ruins
Remnants of shipwreck on a sad beach
There are still nights when sails
A ghost ship navigates my nightmares
And whenever it sails through my room
I wake up soaked in sweat and anger
Because I know they have come to announce to me
That in my dead town another house has fallen
Who would have told me
That I dreamed of the sea
That in a damn swamp, ayayay
My house would shipwreck
I say goodbye to Jánovas
To La Velilla and Lacort
Goodbye, sunken little boats, goodbye
My poor country, goodbye
My poor country, goodbye
