Pobre de mí [English translation]

Sun of my life, light of my eyes,

feel how my hands caress your smooth skin,

my poor hands, broken wings,

crucified, crucified under your feet.

Open those wonderful arms

and, in between sobs, drink my soul, that it's for you.

How can I be blamed for being all yours,

for your pride being my sentence, poor me!

Sun of my life, light of my eyes,

feel how my hands caress your smooth skin,

my poor hands, broken wings,

crucified, crucified under your feet.

Open those wonderful arms

and, in between sobs, drink my soul, that it's for you.

How can I be blamed for being all yours,

for your pride being my sentence, poor me!

• Artist:Javier Solís