By Aurelio Arturo
Translated by Raúl Jaime Gaviria
With the collaboration of
Edgardo Arturo and Nicolás Suescún
A woman sang, she sang
feeling herself alone in the night,
in the night, velvety valley.
She sang and the sweetest
a woman’s voice can be, that was hers.
It flowed from her lips
life when it has been beautiful.
A woman sang
as in a deep forest, and without looking at her
I knew she was so sweet, so beautiful.
She sang, still
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