Para Que No Se Duerman Mis Sentidos

Speak to me in the calm hour of midnight
Speak to me so that my senses do not fall asleep, speak to me
Of distant lands where the only god is the sun
Where life is lived to the sound of the sycamore leaves swayed by breeze and heat.

Tell me of failures, life, the paths of crazy painters
Speak to me of the haze of the nights
When your lover of lovers fled
From Carthage to the gates of Rome, from Moorish Seville
Of carnations of revolution
Of the turns the screw takes,
Of loves that are prisons.

My soul goes back and forth like a sponge
It comes and goes if you speak to me,
If you tell me things

Boatwoman, mountain, hat

My wandering soul comes and goes
Lovely maiden, if you loved me

My lovely boatwoman comes and goes
If you look at me in that way

Speak to me in the calm hour of midnight
Speak to me so that my senses do not fall asleep, speak to me
Of Phoenician Cadiz, of Cordoba that sheltered its mosque,
Of Chagall or the Andalusian poets in exile
Of why carnations for a revolution
Of the turns the screw takes,
Of loves that are prisons.

My soul goes back and forth like a sponge
It comes and goes if you speak to me,
If you tell me things

My warrior soul comes and goes
It comes and goes if you speak to me,
If you sweeten the wait

Boatwoman, mountain, hat

My wandering soul comes and goes
Lovely maiden, if you loved me

My lovely boatwoman comes and goes
If you smile at me in that way

Boatwoman, mountain, hat

Boatwoman, mountain, hat