Ay, Quién Puediera Volar

Two weeks as a sailor
stuck without a chance to sail,
two weeks as prisoners
and there's no cider in the barrel.
Damn this hour,
how the wind blows like hell,
it lifted my skirt
as I was coming this way
and my lantern went out,
I just want to die.

I'm so fed up with this confinement,
with these beasts and this stench
and to top it all off,
these animals with their fierce selfishness
want to marry me tomorrow
for their damn boss.
Amidst all this filth,
I'm losing my patience,
may the wind have mercy on me.

Oh, who could fly
above the walls,
over the seas, the stars,
above the waves,
over the clouds, the skies,
above the sand,
over the rivers, the ice,
above and below,
to fly far away, to fly high.