Dicen que por las noches no m?s se le iba en puro llorar; dicen que no com?a, no m?s se le iba en puro tomar. Juran que el mismo cielo se estremec?a al o?r su llanto, c?mo sufri? por ella, y hasta en su muerte la fue llamando: Ay, ay, ay, ay, ay cantaba, ay, ay, ay, ay, ay gem?a, Ay, ay, ay, ay, ay cantaba, de pasi?n mortal mor?a. Que una paloma triste muy de ma?ana le va a cantar a la casita sola con sus puertitas de par en par; juran que esa paloma no es otra cosa m?s que su alma, que todav?a espera a que regrese la desdichada. Cucurrucuc? paloma, cucurrucuc? no llores. Las piedras jam?s, paloma, ?qu? van a saber de amores? Cucurrucuc?, cucurrucuc?, cucurrucuc?, cucurrucuc?, cucurrucuc?, paloma, ya no le llores *** They say that at nights He simply went through by just crying They say that he wasn't eating It simply didn't suit him just taking (some food) They swear that the sky itself Was vibrating by listening his weeping How he was suffering for her, And even when he was dying he was calling at her: Ay, ay, ay, ay, ay he was singing Ay, ay, ay, ay, ay he was wailing Ay, ay, ay, ay, ay he was singing He was dying from mortal passion. That a sad dove Very early in the morning will sing At the lonely house Whose small doors are widely open They swear that this dove Is no other (thing) than his soul, That is still waiting For the unhappy (woman) to return. Cucurrucuc? dove, cucurrucuc? don't cry. The stones never, dove, What will they now of loves? Cucurrucuc?, cucurrucuc?, Cucurrucuc?, cucurrucuc?, Cucurrucuc?, dove, don't cry anymore