Granada,
Land dreamed of by me,
My singing becomes a Gypsy
When is it for you?
My singing, made of fantasies?
My singing , flower of melancholy
That I come to give you
Granada bloody land in bullfighting afternoons
Woman who preserves the spell of Moorish eyes
I dream of you rebellious and Gypsy covered in flowers
And I kiss your scarlet mouth
Juicy apple that speaks to me of loves
Granada Manola sung in beautiful couplets
I have nothing else to give you but a bouquet of roses
Of roses of soft fragrance
That they gave a frame to the dark virgin
Granada is your land? full
Of beautiful women, blood and sun (ol?)

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