Criollísima

They look like two honeycombs
Your lips on your brown skin, woman
Fresh like an apple you go
Showing off your elegant walk.

Your hair free like the wind, it's seen,
Looks just like the color of coffee
Your eyes are moon and star, yes!
From the firmament of a sunrise.

Sweet, joyful morning,
Early Sunday
Through the square you come,
The flowers show themselves happy
Buds, buttons, sprout for you.

You smell like ripe pineapple
Exquisite aroma
That our fruits give
You have all the beauty
Of a flowery field, of a sunset