Golondrina

Swallows of a single summer
With constant yearning for distant skies...
Creole soul, wandering and traveling,
Trying to stop her is a chimera.

Swallows with fever in their wings,
Pilgrim drunk with emotion...
Always dreaming of other paths
The crazy compass of your heart.

Little Creole girl from my town, girl from my neighborhood,
The swallow one day would stop her flight;
There would be no cloud in her eyes of vague distances
And in your loving arms she would build her nest.

Her longing for distances would calm down in your mouth
With the sweet fragrance of your old love...
Little Creole girl from my town, girl from my neighborhood,
With folded wings, I too will return.

In your routes that cross the seas
Blooms a blue trail of songs
And under the spell of new landscapes
Your clear string sounds intensely.

With your sweet sowing of harmonies
Distant lands saw you pass by;
Other moons followed your footsteps,
Your only destiny is always to fly