El Niño de La Miel

The heart is made of earth
And his hands are made of water
His ears of cotton and his voice of mint
The honey boy awaits me
Flower of the air

The enchanted bamboo grove, his refuge
Son of the wind, all spring
The honey boy does not arrive

He leaves, grows, does not find his place

The enchanted bamboo grove, his refuge
The spell of the water, his solace
The honey boy that I long for...