Granada

Granada, land dreamed by me
my singing becomes gypsy
when it's for you.

My singing made of fantasy
my singing flower of melancholy
that I come to give you.

Granada, bloodstained land
in bullfight afternoons,
women who keep the charm
of Moorish eyes.

I dream of you rebellious and gypsy
covered in flowers
and I kiss your pomegranate mouth
juicy apple
that speaks to me of love.

Granada, manola, sung manola
in precious verses,
I have nothing else to give you
but a bouquet of roses.

Of roses with a soft fragrance
that framed the dark-skinned virgin.

Granada, your land is full
of beautiful women
of blood and sun.