La Rumba Del Sabor Amargo

That night was lit
the air like a tear,
that 'tablao' was ignited
just by looking at you.

Closed with an ovation of flowers
crimson and scarlet,
and even jewels were thrown
while they toasted from a table
as if having nothing
leaving their breath in cheers.

And the sun sank into its lethargy
and the night awakened,
I was a kid and yet
my heart was pounding
when Bambino sang the rumba
of the bitter flavor.

If love could turn
into a gift
I would choose the form
of a jewel or a flower.

Don't look for anything more beautiful,
it doesn't exist, have no doubt,
because the most beautiful things
are forever or barely last,
because the most beautiful things
are forever or barely last.

And the sun sank into its lethargy
and the night awakened,
I was a kid and yet
my heart was pounding
when Bambino sang the rumba
of the bitter flavor.

And that night, when the spirit
was invoked by a gypsy angel,
hell turned into heaven
and by playing on impulse
the ephemeral with the eternal
touched with palms.

And the sun sank into its lethargy
and the night awakened,
I was a kid and yet
my heart was pounding
when Bambino sang the rumba
of the bitter flavor.

So comfortable I drink,
so much I sip the glass,
so comfortable I drink,
taking such long sips,
I end up drinking the dregs
and a bitter taste remains.