De Aquellos Cerros Vengo

From those hills I come, my dear black woman,
To seek the remains of my soul.
Fresh and eager, I gave it to you.
You destroyed it, I don't know why.

From those hills I come, my dear black woman...

This little poncho of mine, with three colors,
Tells me not to trust your love.
Ungrateful dove, you have repaid me poorly,
Cut your wings, stop flying...

From those hills I come, my dove.