En la Arboleda de los Álamos Temblórosos
¡Ay! Mi corazón. Mi amor.
My heart aches to hear
the wind through these trees.
These leaves, the only gold we’ve seen.
I cry as I think of you,
and the golden light of Andaluz.
¡Ay! This wind, these leaves—
a thousand castanets,
a thousand days searching for cities of gold,
a thousand nights dreaming of you.
¡Ay! Dance for me, my love,
dance for me in my dreams.