Vuélvete, Paloma

Come back, Pigeon
Let the wounded deer
Peek over the hill
And take in the fresh air of your flight

My beloved, the mountains
The lonely wooded valleys
The strange isles
The sonorous rivers
The whistle of the loving winds

The calm night
At the break of dawn
The silent music
The lonely solitude
The dinner that delights and enchants

Our flowery bed
Linked by lion caves
Spread in purple
Built of peace
Crowned with a thousand golden shields

Following your trail
The young ones follow the path
At the touch of lightning
With spiced wine
Emissions of divine balm

In the inner cellar
Of my beloved I drank, and when I left
Throughout this meadow
I no longer knew a thing
And lost the cattle I used to follow

There he gave me his chest
There he taught me very tasty knowledge
And I indeed gave him
Myself, without leaving anything
There I promised to be his wife

My soul has been employed
And all my wealth, in his service
I no longer keep livestock
Nor do I have another job
For now only loving is my exercise

Since without the field
From now on I will not be seen or found
You will say that I am lost
That walking in love
I became lost, and was won

With flowers and emeralds
In the fresh chosen mornings
We will make the garlands
Blossomed in your love
And intertwined in one of my hairs

In just that hair
That you considered flying around my neck
You looked at it on my neck
And you remained trapped in it
And wounded in one of my eyes

When you looked at me
Your grace imprinted in my eyes
That's why you loved me
And in that deserved
Mine to adore what they saw in you
Do not despise me
If you found a dark color in me
You can look at me now
After you looked at me
You left grace and beauty in me

Catch us the foxes
For our vineyard is already in bloom
While we make a bunch of roses
And no one appears on the mountain

Stop, dead north wind
Come, south wind, that remembers the loves
Breathe through my garden
And let its scents flow
And the beloved will graze among the flowers