Por Tu Amor Me Duele El Aire
Marta Gómez
For Your Love, The Air Hurts Me
Oh, what a job
It costs me to love you as I do!
For your love, the air hurts me,
The heart and the hat.
Who would buy from me
This headband I have
And this sadness of white thread
To make handkerchiefs?
The sea has no oranges
And Seville has no love.
Dark-skinned one, what firelight.
Lend me your parasol.
It will turn my face green,
Lime and lemon juice
Your words, little fish,
Will swim around.
