I carry your light and your scent on my skin;
and the four in the heart.
I carry the foam of the sea in my blood
and your horizon in my eyes.
I do not envy the flight or the cry to the turpial
I am like the wind in the harvest.
I feel the Caribbean as a woman,
I am like that, what will I do?
I am desert, jungle, snow and volcano
and as I walk I leave my wake;
and the rumor of the plain in a song
that reveals me
The woman that I want has to be
heart, fire and spur, with skin toasted like a flower
With your landscapes and dreams I will leave
for those worlds of God.
And your memories at sunset
they will make the road shorter.
Among your beaches was my childhood
lying to the wind and the sun.
And that nostalgia that today rises in my voice,
without wanting to become a song.
From the mountains I want the immensity
and the watercolor river.
And from you the children who will sow
And if one day I have to shipwreck
and a typhoon breaks my sails
bury my body near the sea