Cucurrucucu Paloma

They say that at night
he would only cry,
they say he wouldn't eat
he would only drink;
they swear that the sky itself
would tremble upon hearing his cry
How he suffered for her,
that even in death he called out to her:

Ay, ay, ay, ay, he sang,
ay, ay, ay, ay, he moaned,
ay, ay, ay, ay, he cried,
he died of mortal passion.
That a sad dove
very early in the morning will sing to him
at the lonely little house
with the doors wide open;
they swear that this dove
is nothing more than his soul,
that still waits
for the wretched one to return.

Cucurrucucú, dove,
cucurrucucú, don't cry.
The stones will never, dove,
know about love.

Cucurrucucú, cucurrucucú,
cucurrucucú, dove, don't cry anymore.