Una Paloma Blanca ... on my roof, fell ...
On the roof of my old cabin, high in the mountains,
a weary Paloma Blanca is supported, and knowing as I arrived,
with softness and affection, was inside my house, took my heart. was cold and tired and curled up on my chest, fell asleep, did not know who it was or where I was going ... but this cold and lonely night I first felt I was not alone, that night we slept, her and me. But shortly after their dream ... woke up and seeing me with her sweet eyes, smiling at me as if I always knew ... Gently ... I spoke - "I come from far away ... and I must go home when the sun is born .. my love will be worried if before the end of the day tomorrow ... I'm not. - But tell Paloma Blanca , why have flown both the wind or confused you that if I had a Paloma Blanca, sleep at night close to my heart! 'And so, in this cave alive without having Paloma left as beautiful as you .. - Ahhh ... if I told you that my love night walks like a lost soul at home ... if I told her silences wandering through the dark hours in the evening marks the clock ... - Paloma calla ... Calla ...! anyone can have so sore and left his heart that only I know what is the solitude of the night, or is that what you say ... it's me ... ? - not you, but maybe distant poet can give me what my love, in fear asked me. 'My beloved Paloma Blanca, just a message far .... to your love .... today I give ... , to write when in the black nights sleep .... it was lost silent ... because ever since I am a poet, I heard the love and regret, united in one voice. 'Say it in the old mountains, where since the winter .... arrived today ... the hours I will be warmer when opening my stiff and old window, you can read his words ... God knows that ...! out a beautiful heart. 'Say you to smile to life, who loves and values herself, because even that forgot his soul as being happy, on the night of their distant fears, now do not forget, listen dare the murmur of the wind ... like a distant friend ... my voice. 'Say it to his memory in these old, cold and distant mountains ... forever stayed and that his poems bring me the memory of my beloved Rosalia de Castro, POET OF LOVE ordering that only love .... in the cold silence of the night ... never woke up. , do not know if my love will understand everything I've said, as I understand it or .... - No matter Paloma Blanca ... take him my mountain flower and its smell will tell you where I am because neither the cold of the storm ... a flower can prevent that by smelling it, give love .
a weary Paloma Blanca is supported, and knowing as I arrived,
with softness and affection, was inside my house, took my heart. was cold and tired and curled up on my chest, fell asleep, did not know who it was or where I was going ... but this cold and lonely night I first felt I was not alone, that night we slept, her and me. But shortly after their dream ... woke up and seeing me with her sweet eyes, smiling at me as if I always knew ... Gently ... I spoke - "I come from far away ... and I must go home when the sun is born .. my love will be worried if before the end of the day tomorrow ... I'm not. - But tell Paloma Blanca , why have flown both the wind or confused you that if I had a Paloma Blanca, sleep at night close to my heart! 'And so, in this cave alive without having Paloma left as beautiful as you .. - Ahhh ... if I told you that my love night walks like a lost soul at home ... if I told her silences wandering through the dark hours in the evening marks the clock ... - Paloma calla ... Calla ...! anyone can have so sore and left his heart that only I know what is the solitude of the night, or is that what you say ... it's me ... ? - not you, but maybe distant poet can give me what my love, in fear asked me. 'My beloved Paloma Blanca, just a message far .... to your love .... today I give ... , to write when in the black nights sleep .... it was lost silent ... because ever since I am a poet, I heard the love and regret, united in one voice. 'Say it in the old mountains, where since the winter .... arrived today ... the hours I will be warmer when opening my stiff and old window, you can read his words ... God knows that ...! out a beautiful heart. 'Say you to smile to life, who loves and values herself, because even that forgot his soul as being happy, on the night of their distant fears, now do not forget, listen dare the murmur of the wind ... like a distant friend ... my voice. 'Say it to his memory in these old, cold and distant mountains ... forever stayed and that his poems bring me the memory of my beloved Rosalia de Castro, POET OF LOVE ordering that only love .... in the cold silence of the night ... never woke up. , do not know if my love will understand everything I've said, as I understand it or .... - No matter Paloma Blanca ... take him my mountain flower and its smell will tell you where I am because neither the cold of the storm ... a flower can prevent that by smelling it, give love .
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