Cantar de cego

Lost my beloved sight,
my candle went out;
for me, it's always night
Madalena is leaving me!

Lost my beloved sight,
the most precious gift;
I have nothing left to lose
except for my life.

I earn my bread
making fun of myself;
my tears for wine
my pain for a violin.

Come, gentlemen, and listen
I will make you forget your tears
for I know the best songs
and the strangest stories.

Eating without knowing what I eat
and not being noticed
that my hunger does not understand
how to distinguish good from bad.

I will die any night
with my clearest night;
perhaps on top of a mountain
the crows will make my bed.