She was a tanned rose
with coral lips,
and a man seeing her sad,
he sang and sang
in the morning:
What do you have in your eyes
Maruja Limón,
that they turned straw-coloured
Maruja Limón?
About your blindness
Granada say:
Yellow and with bags
What a shame!
I told you many times,
Maruja Limón,
I think that man
is a thief.
As you don't put bolts
in your heart,
ay ay ay...
your eyes will become fountains,
Maruja Limón, Maruja Limón,
Maruja Limón, Maruja Limón.
~ ~ ~
She has hundreds of jewels
and an endless amount of emeralds,
but because of this story,
the men sing to her
through the Albaicín:
Where went your songs,
Maruja Limón,
and your polka dot blouse,
Maruja Limón?
Now you spend on velvet
instead of percale,
and you don't carry in the hair
orange blossom bouquets.
You didn't pay me attention,
Maruja Limón,
and now you're moving slowly
to your doom.
For not putting bolts
in your heart,
ay ay ay...
now your eyes are fountains,
Maruja Limón, Maruja Limón,
Maruja Limón, Maruja Limón.
~ ~ ~
You didn't pay me attention,
Maruja Limón,
and now you're moving slowly
to your doom.
For not putting bolts
in your heart,
ay ay ay...
now your eyes are fountains,
Maruja Limón, Maruja Limón,
Maruja Limón, Maruja Limón,
Maruja Limón, Maruja Limón,
Maruja Limón, Maruja Limón.