La Amanecida

Mountain of solitude, we’re drinking in the day
And walking through the salty earth of lost tears
And walking through the salty earth of lost tears

I can’t say anymore that the wind is the bread of the horizon
Or bring the morning close to my mouth, lips like copper
Or bring the morning close to my mouth, lips like copper

I’m trying to clear up the emptiness of the Sun
And this zamba that sings and names you cries in my hands
And this zamba that sings and names you has a scream at the end

Flesh of my song, words that are being born
I’m going to be from my land, an olive whistling like the wind
I’m going to be from my land, an olive whistling like the wind

Light of a dawn wants to bloom in my mouth
My skin sounds on a dry drum, singing over the leaves
My skin sounds on a dry drum, singing over the leaves

I’m trying to clear up the emptiness of the Sun
And this zamba that sings and names you cries in my hands
And this zamba that sings and names you has a scream at the end