La Guitarra Perdida

(Zamba)

Sonorous branch,
where my dreams have sprouted:
in your stem I come to leave
the tremor of my nostalgia.
I want to live in your feeling
as a young girl in love.

Sweet guitar,
night owl wood:
the morning stars will tell
that I have never forgotten you.
Singing branch, I seek your voice
hurt and lonely.

In your mouth has remained
my life turned into zamba.
Intimate being, you shall return
in lost music.

Alone, very alone,
through unknown path
my sad guitar will walk
in the nights of oblivion,
My soul will enter seeking it
to all the roads.

Golden leaf
from the tree of my longing:
through your sap I want to ascend
to the flowers of memory.
Earth and root, slow suffering,
sunken in my silence.