El Marino Y La Mulata

Tired the sailor of traveling,
of so many clouds, of so much sea,
of coming and going, of remote cities,
he abandoned his old boat to the seagulls.

He took what was left of his pirate rum,
spat at the storm, 'I must go now' - he said -,
in a blurry port, he slept off the hangover
and anchored his heart on solid ground.

Oh, salty water...
No one knew where, no one said anything.
Oh, calm water...
Shipwrecked in the arms of that brunette.
Oh, salty water...
For he who kills by mistake dies by mistake.
Oh, calm water...
He didn't find the way and was covered by the sand.

Tired the mulatto of waiting
of growing old on the deck,
of counting stars, of watching seagulls fly,
of mending with her pain the broken sails.

She unmoored an old abandoned boat
'where is your heart, where will you be sailor' - she said -,
and from the blurry port, one early morning
the wind of destiny was carrying her.

Oh, salty water...
no one knew where, no one said anything.
Oh, calm water,
in waning crescent the brunette left.
Oh, salty water,
For he who kills by mistake dies by mistake.
Oh, calm water,
she said 'goodbye sailor' and forgot her sorrow.

Oh, salty water,
I was told by an old wise man, who was fishing.
Oh, calm water,
she waited for him with each tide.
Oh, salty water,
today it is he who searches for her trace in the sand.
Oh, calm water.
Where are you sailor? Where are you brunette?