Green, how I want you green. Green wind. Green branches. The ship out on the sea and the horse on the mountain. With the shade around her waist she dreams on her balcony, green flesh, her hair green, with eyes of cold silver. Green, how I want you green. Under the gypsy moon, all things are watching her and she cannot see them. Green, how I want...Learn More

The weeping of the guitar begins. The goblets of dawn are smashed. The weeping of the guitar begins. Useless to silence it. Impossible to silence it. It weeps monotonously as water weeps as the wind weeps over snowfields. Impossible to silence it. It weeps for distant things. Hot southern sands yearning for white camellias. Weeps arrow without...Learn More

Tengo los ojos azules, tengo los ojos azules Y el corazoncillo egual que la cresta de la lumbre. De nu caballooche me salgo al patio y me harto de llorar De ver que te quiero tanto y tu no me quieres nà. Esta gitana esta loca, pero loquita de atar, Que lo que suenas de noche, quiere que sea verdad. Las manos de mi carino Te setan bordando una...Learn More

Tree, tree dry and green. The girl with the pretty face is out picking olives. The wind, playboy of towers, grabs her around the waist. Four riders passed by on Andalusian ponies, with blue and green jackets and big, dark capes. 'Come to Cordoba, muchacha.' The girl won't listen to them. Three young bullfighters passed, slender in the waist, with...Learn More