Salavina

Like a song that lifts the night
Longings that come and go,
lighting up the violin of the crickets
next to the fence of loneliness.

And the moon on the back of the river
plays with the foam,
and some verses of old vidalas
on the shore are already heard singing.

Salavina, Oh, Salavina,
I would like to see you again,
to be the boy who in the marshes
happily wet his feet.

When the sun with its magic leaves it,
flowered in gold at tuscal,
the crespín breaks the silence,
through bitter paths of salt.

With distant stars and voices,
hope fills the night with love,
and the absence revives in the sorrow,
that takes hold of the old singer.

Salavina, Oh, Salavina,
I would like to see you again,
to be the boy who in the marshes,
happily wet his feet.