They say that at nights He simply went through by just crying They say that he wasn’t eating It simply didn’t suit him just taking (some food) They swear that the sky itself Was vibrating by listening his weeping How he was suffering for her, And even when he was dying he was calling at her: Ay, ay, ay, ay, ay he was singing Ay, ay, ay, ay, ay he was wailing Ay, ay, ay, ay, ay he was singing He was dying from mortal passion. That a sad dove Very early in the morning will sing At the lonely house Whose small doors are widely open They swear that this dove Is no other (thing) than his soul, That is still waiting For the unhappy (woman) to return. Cucurrucucú dove, cucurrucucú don’t cry. The stones never, dove, What will they now of loves? Cucurrucucú, cucurrucucú, Cucurrucucú, cucurrucucú, Cucurrucucú, dove, don’t cry anymore
Posted on: Thu, 13 Nov 2014 19:28:44 +0000
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