Añoranzas

The icy wind killed the flowers
that bloomed on my rose bush,
and of the tientos of my loves,
alone and deserted is the railing.
In the courtyard is the same fountain
that my songs managed to hear,
but at its side, with a mournful voice,
the cruel winter comes to sing.

The swallows that yesterday wove
their loving nest, full of love,
have been consulted and have already left
to other warmer climes.
The white flakes are burying
all that is beautiful, all the love,
and already in the souls is singing
the sad muse, that of pain.

But winter, with its sadness
will soon end its reign,
those beauties will come again
and the whole happy world will laugh.
My soul, my delicate flower
has not succumbed to pain,
because it knows it is adored by you,
because it is always cared for by your love.