La Ronda Enamorada

When the round ends
and the town remains
silent once again,
how I like you, Boltaña,
alone and at nightfall!

With no music but the wind
and no other rhythm but
the heartbeat,
what a sweet and quiet night!,
a night to talk about love.

Like the dove to its mate
I will lull you in the tower,
like a little goldfinch
between the bars
I will sing for you.
Beautiful stone cage,
you are my home.
And from the castle to the Arengal,
all your houses
smile at me as I pass by.

Tall cliffs, Larañoto,
Church Street,
Colonel's Street:
what I have serenaded you, Boltaña,
and what I will serenade you!

Every corner of your streets
teaches me songs
if I come to see you,
songs that speak of people
and a time that has passed.

The thunder plays the palotiau
down Main Street;
so many centuries have passed
that the boxwood sounds
to the beat of this song
that has soaked the stones
with its sound,
and when it clears up
I believe I hear
distant voices
of friends who are no longer here.

What happened to the serenaders
who spoke of love to you
like I do today?
Only the wind in La Goleta
whistles sometimes its song.

Before time's passing
takes me away like it did to them
never to return,
this enamored round
I will sing to you a thousand times.

And when I can no longer sing it
perhaps the frogs
in the ravine
of San Martin will do it for me;
a cat on Carrereta
will meow it,
and all of Trastiello will resound
when the crickets
play their little orchestra.

While through your streets
laughter is heard
and words of love,
or a chorus of little ones
learning
their lesson,
the echo of our voices
will not die.
Never give up,
and without backing down,
sing, Boltaña,
and the Round will follow you!