¡Amalaya El Cielo!

Damn the sky for not bringing me a son
In any little girl from this small town!
In any little girl, even if she's bad,
Because a son's cry makes them good.

Dark little one, pure indigenous race,
Blood of my strength, flesh of love.
To love him a lot, to give him everything,
All this tenderness, all this love
That for a village girl I have nurtured.

Loving her so much, she has never loved me.
And here I am, losing her trail.
The winds have tired of carrying sighs.
My eyes have tired of taming paths.

And so my wings can shelter a nest,
And so these eyes of mine can rest,
Damn the sky for not bringing me a son,
In any little girl from this small town!