El Niño y El Canario

The canary was a beauty
And its owner was a little boy
Who diligently watched over
The singer's care

It was a beautiful specimen
With an orange color
It was a resigned prisoner
To the mission of singing

It was very nice to hear
From its melodious throat
The deep note that cries
In a constant rolling

Its singing indicated
That it was suffering some anguish
Because lacking joy
Its song was a sorrow

One day its owner
The tender little boy
Who used to be ecstatic
Observing the brilliance
Of such divine colors
And such a beautiful singing

Took his complaint to the sky
Because defeated by the bars
Of the small prison
In nostalgic agony
His faithful canary was dying
Without understanding the reason

Prisoner of deep sorrow
He drowned his eyes in tears
And with childlike emotion
He took the prisoner out of the cage
Planted a kiss with his mouth
On the pink plumage
And in his trembling hand
A rose fell asleep
That had a heart

The wooden box
The wooden box
The same one that contained
Colorful little pencils

Was the final abode
Of the one who in his life had been
Of the one who in his life had been
His most precious value

And in the garden of his house
And in the garden of his house
At a very short distance
From a legendary walnut tree

The poor creature cried
The poor creature cried
While digging the grave
Of his singing canary