Strolling my loneliness
through Marbella's beach,
I Saw you in Cartangena,
showing off your brown skin.
And in warm nights of moon,
when breeze kisses me,
I feel Cartagenera,
the bell of your laughter.
Cartagenera your mouth,
Like a ripe guava,
cartagenera your eyes,
those last in my memory.
Brown Cartagenera
wet with moonlight,
wet with moonlight,
brown cartagenera.
Walking in the light
of Marbella's beach,
there you go cartagenera,
showing off your brown skin.
And in the warm nights of moon,
when breeze kisses me,
it is hear, cartagenera,
the bell of your laughter.