Asleep between roses and lace of yarn,
Dreaming about the lilies that coming from the South,
Looking cold carnations in the night,
The Andalusian lives of forbidden love.
Hat in his eyes, handkerchief emerald,
Fire on the eyelashes, what a tiny value!
He was forgotten, maybe the reasons
of a pasodoble that sang in Madrid.
They say that in the moonlit nights in May
between the evil of darkness,
painted his eyes and bites his lips
and with a fan in hand he starts to sing:
Oh rose, beautiful Malaga1, biznaga2 from my passion,
where I learned to want, where I met the love.
Oh rose, beautiful Malaga, biznaga from my passion,
What is the reason to me of come back?
What is the reason to me, if love has withered away?
The roses ask: why he went into exile?
The lilies ask: why he don't returned?
Only the moon and bitter wine
know the motives of his heart.
They say that for being rojo, for being a republican,
Who he was entangled with a military,
Four young gentlemen with guns in their hand
They left him voiceless in the morning.
Oh rose, beautiful Malaga, biznaga from my passion,
where I learned to want, where I met the love.
Oh rose, beautiful Malaga, biznaga from my passion,
What is the reason to me of come back?
What is the reason to me, if love has withered away?
1. is a municipality, capital of the Province of Málaga, in the Autonomous Community of Andalusia, Spain.2. It is a bouquet of jasmine in ball form of laborious preparation, that in the summer are often sold around the streets of Malaga (Spain)