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The moon's an arrant thief, And her pale fire she snatches from the sun. ~William Shakespeare |
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Canción Mixteca Que lejos estoy del suelo donde he nacido! inmensa nostalgia invade mi pensamiento; y al verme tan solo y triste cual hoja al viento, quisiera llorar, quisiera morir de sentimiento. Oh tierra del sol!, suspiro por verte ahora que lejos yo vivo sin luz, sin amor; y al verme tan solo y triste cual hoja al viento, quisiera llorar, quisiera morir de sentimiento. Mixteca Song I'm that far land where I was born! Immense sadness fills my feelings and seeing me so lonely and sad like leaf in the wind, I would like to mourn, I would die of feeling. Oh land of the sun! I yearn to see you now that I live far without light, without love and seeing me so lonely and sad like a leaf in the wind I would like to mourn, I would die of feeling. |
