Lyrics Salva Rodriguez - Verde que te quiero verde

Green, beloved!
       The color of the wind, the groves are cool!
       Boat in the green sea
       Horse on the road to the mountains ...
       Shaded to the waist
       She sat at the railing:
       Silver eyes sparkle
       With a green tint
       Green, beloved!
       Under the eternal gypsy moon
       The whole world, covered in silence,
       She admires her alone.
       
       Green, beloved!
       Frosty stars are melting
       Going into tar pitch
       What a path the dawn opens.
       Fig tree cleans
       Hard leaf wind
       The mountain arches its back
       Angrily bristles with needles.
       Where would a traveler come from?
       He looks sadly from the balcony.
       Green body dream
       The bitter sea tides.
       
       Countryman, I would give without words
       The horse for her house is old,
       Saddle - behind the mirror, your knife -
       For lying next to her.
       From Cabra I go far
       And my path is marked with blood.
       Oh man, when would my will
       That would have ended the speech.
       Yes, today I’m not mine,
       My house is a stranger to me.
       Countryman, would die in peace,
       From the wounds, as a man should
       Among relatives in bed
       With a white linen cover!
       Look! Chest to throat
       The mortal wound gapes ...
       On your white shirt -
       Three hundred crimson flowers
       Your belt is soaked in blood
       They perished with a spicy smell.
       Yes, today I’m not mine,
       My house is a stranger to me.
       So let me rise though
       To these high railing
       Oh give, let rise
       To these high railing!
       To the moonlight balcony
       Where the water said ...
       
       And so they both rose
       To the railing of the moon and star
       And the trail dragged on bloody
       The other remained - tearful
       Tin Flashlights
       Trembling on flat roofs
       In the fragments of glass tambourines
       There was no voice of the morning ...
       
       Green, beloved!
       The color of the wind, the groves are cool!
       And then they both stand,
       Mint breathing icy:
       Where is she, a bitter miracle,
       The one that was waiting under the moon?
       How many times have I dreamed here
       How many times came out
       Tender in black braids
       To these green railing!
       
       
       Gypsy tide cradled
       On the mirror of the water surface:
       With a green tint of the body,
       Silver shine in the look.
       The wedge of the moon swayed
       And she swayed beside her.
       And the night flowed so quiet
       Unaware of the loss
       When the gendarmes bypass
       The drunk broke into the door ...
       
       Green, beloved!
       The color of the wind, the groves are cool!
       Boat in the green sea.
       Horse on the road to the mountains.