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The Boat's Leaving

One day towards the sea,
a boat departed
and in its wake it took
a nest of illusion.
And on the beach
sad and confident
the little woman sweetly sang:
 
It's leaving, it's leaving, the boat
it's leaving with the fisherman
and in that boat that crosses the sea
My love is leaving too.
 
Who knows until when
the boat will return?
and I remain singing like this:
It's leaving, it's leaving, it is leaving.
 
The boat moved away
lying in its stream
it challenged the sea
with all its bravery
and on the beach
sad and confident
the little woman sweetly sang:
 
It's leaving, it's leaving, the boat
it's leaving with the fisherman
and in that boat that crosses the sea
My love is leaving too.
 
Who knows until when
the boat will return?
and I remain singing like this:
It goes away, it goes away, it goes away.
 
Into the temporary storm
the boat did not return
they say it was shipwrecked
drowning an illusion
and on the beach
sad and confident
the little woman sweetly sang:
 
It's leaving, it's leaving, the boat
it's leaving with the fisherman
and in that boat that crosses the sea
My love is leaving too.
 
Who knows until when
the boat will return?
and I remain singing like this:
It's leaving, it's leaving, it's leaving.
 

The absent child

If I could tend the flight
on the rich seas of dawn
Tear the clouds from the high sky
and on the banks of the land
hang the nest of my loves
 
Nest that keeps rich fortune
My mother, oh mother, from the soul of mine
My little brothers, moon rays
In the same one and modest cradle
Your sons saw the light of day
~~~
Hearts throb there
to the tender kiss of the faithful sweetheart
There my illusions are kept
and the sad echo of the songs
that lulled me as a child
 
You white gull that, in the foams
from the sea, wandering, go indolent
tearing dense marine mists
Look for my mother and in your mists
Take her a kiss from the absent child
~~~
Tell her I'm having trouble with this seas
the bitter glass of existence
That, in vain, I seek my homeland
without no more memories than my regrets
and no more witnesses than my awareness
 
She is my mother, be the chosen one
in the indolence of pure calm
Support the kiss from the clean lip
and in the deepest of my chest
Keep a sigh, mother of soul
 

When the afternoon comes to its end

When the afternoon comes to its end,
in the orchard of the neighbor
there is a bird that sings
with strange bitterness.
 
I don't know if the poor thing
has lost its way,
for me, it goes rhyming
its sadness and grief.
 
Little bird of the orchard
that, in your singing, you cry
a sorrow as profound
as the sea and the sky,
 
I also, on my nights
of sadness and afliction
I have cried the sorrow
of suffering and loving
 
Little bird of the orchard
that, in your singing, you cry
a sorrow as profound
as the sea and the sky,
 
I also, on my nights
of sadness and afliction
I have cried the sorrow
of suffering and loving.