It is a beautiful butterfly flying pink rose,
and one in another laborious a girl runs after her.
Course, cheerful and festive, Follow puerile desire,
and graceful gesture elusive butterfly.
Sometimes with mad attempt He wants to prey upon their finery,
and instead of playing their wings, touch the wings of the wind.
And doubling their efforts, He runs the more laborious,
more leda butterfly It is innocent teasing.
The bunched quick turn, and going to catch her slender,
for every time you loose, the girl loose a sigh.
But without giving her longing, pays and the other light,
not a shorten your career, nor the other dies down your flight.
And wander embebecidas, without feeling indifferent
nor are the clear springs, neither of lost auras.
Nor frightened birds, They divisan the branches,
or see the flowers beneath their feet, nor hear the birds singing.
And while you're singing They continue with Placido noise,
the girl is still running, Butterfly flying.
-Amaina the serene flight, butterfly,
hostel who is within Of the rose.
Why in such a sweet occasion you go without tino
and fleeing prison loop as a pilgrim?
Queen of soft flowers, their anger
fear not, nor the burnings in his eyes,
because that pure arrebol that love,
if it is shining like the sun, It is tender as the dawn.
Thousand palms no waisted more Galano,
Azucena and across the valley which his hand.
You will not hear your divine voice Sweetness,
nor the nightingale trills, or the stream that murmurs.
Learn the aura to be mild your plant,
and to form with snow her throat.
He gave the swan attire of his pen,
light of dawn, and the river its silver, glass and foam.
No more follow the inconstant butterfly,
love and wandering beautiful girl,
that finally will become captive your calls,
If you still love, though elusive, the light of heaven loves.
And though a thousand flowers aspires The fragance,
do not imitate in your love their inconstancy;
so that both roam, usually, beautiful,
among the flowers find the most poisonous weed.
Only mimics your flight, as serene,
ever, child touches the sky, nor the sand.
Who humiliates or without reason up wants,
killed by a hawk If those of an asp does not die.
But alas!
you go after her rambling,
without hearing my complaint, beautiful girl.
Still with alacrity so your content,
so encomienda your plant, as my plea, to viento.-
And so innocent eagerness, as entertain your taste,
and vagrants come, and so are wanderers.
Sometimes in his embeleso butterfly, moving,
usually fleeting stamp a kiss on his cheek.
And rauda raising your flight, the girl angel emblazoned,
by drawing a crown He is turning on his forehead.
And they accordingly Butterfly in their turns,
the girl with his sighs, with rumors the source.
Wander soft air forming double accents,
and are pleased winds, still they are singing birds.
And among such melody, much current mutters,
which is all the fresh air, aroma, light and harmony.
And whispering congojas continue lying to complaints,
in pensil.If bees, and the bower leaves.
And treading tender flowers, and fresh auras beating,
the girl is still running, Butterfly flying.
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