Rocío
Miguel Poveda
Dew
From Seville a courtyard
sprinkled with flowers
a fountain in the middle
with a spout
Roses and carnations
of all colors
that not even a painter
could dream better
Next to the iron gate
there's a young girl
with bronzed skin
and right next to her
a dark and upright
young man on fire
who's talking to her
The Moon, silver rose
bathes the courtyard in light
close to his girlfriend
said the Andalusian lad
Dew, oh, my Dew
bouquet of carnations
blossoming bud
thinking of your desires
I'm going to lose my mind
because I love you, my life
like no one has loved you
oh, Dew, oh, my Dew
Now the courtyard is different
sprinkled with roses
courtyard of the nuns of Charity
where even the fountain
cries silently
the bitter song
of its loneliness
Watering the flowers
there's a little nun
who, like them, has
a face like a flower
and resembles
that young girl
who behind the gate
was spoken to of love
The Moon, silver rose
bathes the courtyard in light
but the song no longer sounds
of that Andalusian lad
Dew, oh, my Dew
bouquet of carnations
blossoming bud
thinking of your desires
I'm going to lose my mind
because I love you, my life
like no one has loved you
oh, Dew, oh, my Dew