Mi Rocío

I bring flowers for the Virgin
and her image on my hat
my guitar to sing to her
with my people from the marsh

The water for the oxen
the wine for the carter
the shade for the nap
close to the rosemary flower

Caravans of carts
look like white doves
crossing the firebreaks
where the sky peeks through

The mass in front of the simpecado
between the dew and the dawn
smelling of rockrose and thyme
and early blooming flowers

My heart dreams and dreams
only of seeing you, Shepherdess,
among the marshland faith
when the dawn awakens
over your face from Almonte