Los laureles
Miguel Aceves Mejía
The Laurels
Oh, such green laurels
such bright roses
if you think of leaving me
you better take my life
lift your eyes to look at me
if you are not committed.
You are a cotton rose
living in the bud
oh, how sad it makes me
when you are filled with pride
to see my heart
entangled with yours.
You are a rose of Castile
only seen in May
I would like to invite you
but the truth is I don't know
if you have someone to prevent it
I better leave.
There goes the farewell
little one, for your desires
the downfall of men
are the blessed women
here they end up singing
the verses of the laurels.
