A Mi Morocha

For the gentle brunette with black braided hair
The one with red lips, like an April bud
The one who has been the envy of colors
The one born among flowers and lullabied by the moon
Creole asleep in the cradle of my loves

I saw you in the reeds and as I looked into your big eyes
That sparkled like infernal lightning
You left traces of some wonder
For on the fence or shore, as I saw you pass, dove
Flowers bloomed on the hill, even the thistle and grass

But how harsh is my speech, you made me fall, brunette
I can't guess the pain that my chest finds without harm
And it's the memory of your big eyes, my suns
That have torn me apart, this passion that bewitches me
Tell me, who made you a witch to poison hearts?