My heart, boat without port
along all routes of illussion,
it found, at the end of its desert,
the blue trail of an old love.
Because of your black eyes
that one late afternoon cried,
and then they enlightened,
today, I sing to you again.
From faraway skyes,
a whole rosary of stars
followed the tracks
of my deep grief.
And now, facing you,
my misfortune ceased,
the lyric adventure
of my wandering.
Because of your black eyes
that one late afternoon cried,
and then they enlightened,
today, I sing to you again.