Bulería Por Soleá

How beautiful is the poppy
It has no equal or mother
It grows in the field alone

I used to go into the corners
And since I know you don't love me
Naughty little companion
I confuse you with curses

Big little craziness to deny it
But you ended for me
Even if you lived a hundred years

And they didn't let me see it
And when his agony was there
I cried tears of blood