Between the city and the mountains
a song separates us.
the deep song of the soul
of the girl with the voice of an angel.
More than forty have passed
years, like the generation
of Moses in the desert
...that voice is an echo
in memory of.
I don't know if she lives!
It's not Swan's way
what I'm looking for. But yes, time
lost in search of her.
Her gaze remains there,
in his big black eyes
like a tunnel from which
It is impossible to get out of it, its desires
to read, her angelic voice,
her desperate cry!
Your skin disease
It was her martyrdom, the heavy
cross that he had to carry
since I was a child.
Between the city and the mountains
...Betulia, the birds were silent
when listening to her singing.
I dreamed of seeing her sing
on a big stage.
Time and her voice passed away.
I don't know, she does have a concert today
in the sky, or she will be behind
of a curtain waiting
Let them announce her name.
Her name is Raquel, in case one day
the time advertised on the billboard
of a famous theater.