Mendocina

A little house on the hill
All covered with flowers,
Is the place of the rendezvous
Of the singing goldfinches.
 
There lives a woman from Mendoza
As beautiful as a sun,
All jealous, they sing to her
All their trova of love.
 
Mendocina, suggestive
And perfumed like a flower,
Every night, very softly
A nightingale gives you trills.
 
You are so beautiful, my Mendocina
Divine woman, God's grace,
If you knew how I adore you
My Mendoza, angel of love.