A Tajitos de Caña
(Hernán Sotomayor Veintimilla)
Ecuador 1978
To your green eyes, my love, eyes of green sugarcane.
To your golden skin, my life, your skin of golden wheat spike.
To you, my song will flow down the brook,
may god will it to reach the river where you are lying, my love,
And whisper to your ear that the breeze of the cane field has caressed me,
and has broken my verses of love to call you mine.
With little slices of sugarcane, you filled my life.
With little drops of honey, you sweetened my soul,
and with little slices of love, I began to love you,
like the sun loves the green sugarcane;
and bread, the golden wheat spike.
