La niña de Guatemala

I want under the shadow of a wing
I will tell this story in bloom
The girl from Guatemala
The one who died of love

Oh, the bouquets were made of lilies
And the edges of mignonette
And with jasmine we buried her
In a silk box

She gave the forgetful one
A scented pillow
He returned, returned married
She died of love

They carried her on a litter
Bishops and ambassadors
Behind them went the people in rows
All loaded with flowers

She, to see him again
Went out to the lookout
He returned with his wife
She died of love

Like burning bronze
At the farewell kiss
Her forehead was the forehead
That I have loved the most in my life

She went into the river in the afternoon
The doctor pulled her out dead
They say she died of cold
I know she died of love

There in the cold vault
They placed her on two benches
I kissed her sharp hand
I kissed her white shoes, oh

Silent, as it got dark
The gravedigger called me
I have never seen again
The one who died of love