Misionera

I, for the black night of your hair
You, lighting up stars to illuminate
I, searching for the key to your secrets
You, hiding the trace of your gaze

To what corner of life did your steps take me, flower of missions that God has sent me?
How to understand that one day, being in my arms,
with sunlight, you smiled and said goodbye with a river in your voice?

And it's that love that has me like this, a pilgrim in search of your love;
And in the dew, I cry for you, a morning glory at dawn.
And it's that love that has me like this, a pilgrim in search of your love;
And in the dew, I cry for you, a morning glory at dawn.

Beautiful missionary with a river's voice, because on the border of passion,
You warm my mouth and leave this cold that nests forever in my heart.
Where will you be, where will I be? Where is the love I swore for you?
Who will love you like I loved you? Far from your love... How will I live?

Bleeding from the ravine, red earth, burning in the salt of the sun setting on the face.
I, a sad wanderer through the gorges, alone to follow my world of solitude.
Mad not to forget your wild gaze, blind to see that your image is no longer true.
Without understanding that you cross through the landscape like a flower of the marsh,
That is beautiful but will belong to no one.

And it's that love that has me like this, a pilgrim in search of your love;
And in the dew, I cry for you, a morning glory at dawn.
And it's that love that has me like this, a pilgrim in search of your love;
And in the dew, I cry for you, a morning glory at dawn.

Beautiful missionary with a river's voice, because on the border of passion,
You warm my mouth and leave this cold that nests forever in my heart.
Where will you be, where will I be? Where is the love I swore for you?
Who will love you like I loved you? Far from your love... How will I live?