Sinhá

If the lady bathed
I wasn't there
By God, Our Lord
I didn't look, Lady
I was in the fields
I don't look at anyone
I no longer covet
Nor do I see well

Why put me on the trunk
Why maim me
I swear to you
That I never saw Lady
Why does it hurt me so
With eyes so blue
I bless myself with the sign
Of the holy cross

I only arrived at the pond
Following the songbird
I looked at the grove
I didn't look, Lady
If the lady undressed
I was already gone
I was at the mill
I was about to grind corn

Why carve my body
I didn't look, Lady
Why do you
Want to gouge my eyes
I cry in Yoruba
But I pray to Jesus
Why do you
Take away my light

And so it will end
The tale of a singer
With the voice of the whipping post
And the airs of a lord
Tormented singer
Heir of the Sarara
Of the name and the fame
Of a fierce plantation owner
And the spells of a slave
Who bewitched Lady at the plantation