Luna Cordobesa

Being the moon of my Cordoba,
hanging from your sky,
so pretty and so distant
like my dream.

Now your light, over the poplars
puts a touch of infinity
and a love that was silence,
turns into a scream.

Confidant of this tear
that goes with its memories,
don't tell her that I've cried
because I love her.

CHORUS

When your pale little face
gets wet in the lagoon,
I remember other nights
and another moon.

The cricket releases its sweetest
serenade on a string.
It doesn't seem like it's singing,
more like it's complaining.

Through the branches of the trees
the wind plays around,
it's the night's elf
that turns into a song.

I give you all this music,
my Cordoban moon,
and the pearl of dew
over the mountains.