For a brief interlude let us contemplate something more profound and beautiful: than pooling blood and machismo neglect.

They say that at night
he did nothing but cry,
they say he didn't eat
he did nothing but drink.
They swear that the very sky (heavens) 1.
trembled on hearing his weeping,
how he suffered for her,
that even in his death, he went calling her

Ay, ay, ay, ay, ay, he sung,
ay, ay, ay, ay, ay, he howled.
Ay, ay, ay, ay, ay, he sung,
tormented by fatal passion.


They say that, very early in the morning
a sad dove goes to sing at the empty small house
with its little doors open wide;
they swear that that dove
is nothing other than his soul,
still waiting for the return of the il-fated woman.

Coo coo ru coo coo paloma, coo coo roo coo coo, don't cry,
the stones never, ever, paloma,
what can they know of love?

Coo coo roo coo coo, coo coo roo coo coo,
Coo coo roo coo coo, coo coo roo coo coo
coo coo roo coo coo, paloma, weep no more.