Mi Señora Dulcinea

Through the land of Castile,
Brown, dry, and yellow,
A song is wandering around,
That is sung in the mill and at night in the inn.

And the pilgrim sings it,
Along the path's route,
With respect and devotion.

My lady Dulcinea,
I am jealous of the air,
That even the air desires you,
My lady Dulcinea,
Dulcinea of Toboso.

Because of you, Dulcinea,
I have lost my mind,
You won the fight,
Against my crazy heart.

Whoever says you are ugly,
Never knew how to see the beauty,
Each crazy person with their own idea,
And mine is Dulcinea,
Dulcinea of Toboso.

You won the fight,
Against my crazy heart.

Whoever says you are ugly,
Never knew how to see the beauty,
Each crazy person with their own idea,
And mine is Dulcinea,
Dulcinea of Toboso.

Dulcinea of Toboso.