Canción Para Cantar Desnuda

I found three fig leaves.
How nice to find them now, so in style.
The fig leaves, not me.

I walked into a house naked.
The house was shameless, not me.
White walls, empty yards.
The house looked at me, embarrassed.
The house, not me.
I forgot a fig leaf in the house.
The house ended up dressed.
The house, not me.

A man was singing in the square.
He was very alone, singing.
It wasn't words, he sang
old sorrows
between clenched teeth.
He was naked.
Naked in anguish.
The man, not me.

He had another fig leaf in his hand.
Not the man.
In my hand, the fig leaf.
I covered his sorrow.
The sorrow ended up dressed.
The sorrow, not me.

I had the last leaf in my hand.
I threw it in the air.
The air ended up dressed, not me.
I approached the man naked.
Naked hands, not me.
And we both ended up dressed.