Cucurrucucu Paloma [English translation]

They say through every nighttime

he was purely a flowing river of tears;

they say he wasn’t eating,

but drinking to drown out the pain that so sears.

They swear that even the night skies

shudder with pity to his sad wails and sharp cries,

for her, oh he was suffering,

and vainly calls out past the death where she now lies.

Ay, ay, ay, ay, ay he’s singing,

ay, ay, ay, ay, ay he’s moaning.

Ay, ay, ay, ay, ay, he’s singing,

and from mortal passion dying.

A Mourning Dove sad and lonesome

at dawn its song will be cooed for your ears,

the cottage still is waiting

with wide open doors emptying fears.

They swear that Mourning Dove cooing

is surely the very soul of your darling,

that is still so sweetly awaiting

her return to his love never-ending.

Cucurrucucú paloma,

cucurrucucú no crying.

The stones we walk on, paloma,

will never know about our loving.