La Lavandera

Here I go with my basket
of sorrows to wash,
to the stream of forgetfulness,
let me, let me pass.

Little moon, moon,
don't stop shining on me.

Your love was the shawl
and it warmed both of us,
you stained it one morning
when you said goodbye.

Little moon, moon,
don't stop shining on me.

In the river's current
I will wash with ardor
the stain of your departure
that you left on my handkerchief.

Little moon, moon,
don't stop shining on me.

I am the sad washerwoman
who goes to wash her illusion,
love is a stain
that doesn't come out without pain.

Little moon, moon,
don't stop shining on me.