Brujita

LITTLE WITCH

Little witch, today I want,
from this hole,
tell you that I die for you.
For your cold hands,
for witchcraft,
because of the way you cough.

Maybe it is written
my life, little witch.
Maybe I'll lose you.
But how much I love you,
my true love!
Without you the world is bad.

It already smells like a storm,
weathervanes creak,
but you, you can save me.
You descend quickly,
without parachute,
on your broom at full throttle.

Witch, it irritates me
the people -damn!-
that tries to make you suffer.
I would kill them,
I would tear off their skin
until I see them die.

Like a coconut tree,
like a skyscraper,
That's how pretty you are.
I watch you sleeping:
Little mystery
that no one ever solved.

Maybe it is written
my life, little witch.
Maybe I'll lose you.
But how much I love you,
my true love!
Without you the world is bad.
Without you the world is bad!

*contains verses from the poems "Brujita" and "Malœ", by Ángel Guache