Yokavil

I aspire to your universe, holy Mary
Your sinful land of roughness
I caress the mud of your river
Crystal clear and pure on the bank
I caress the mud of your river.
The band hidden in the mountain
Hastens to drop the leaves
Naked poplar grove, brown trunks
The band fascinated by doves
Naked poplar grove, brown trunks.
Carob tree sorrow your waist
Yokavil, your sky devours me
Delicate empire of the moon
Jungle of stars, deep vessel
Carob tree sorrow your waist
Yokavil, your sky devours me.
I will find her there one afternoon
Walking on the bridge with a whistle
Enchanting crazy butterflies
Attracting larks with the chirping
I will find her there one afternoon.
Any afternoon when the river
Brings me its song from oblivion
And in the flower of a desolate thistle
Her dawned love will open
Any afternoon when the river.