Each time I see your hair,
I feel the rhythm of tiny
bells in my blood,
and butterflies are born to me
in my hands.
Your hair merits
a velvet rose.
Cada vez que miro tu pelo,
me siento en la sangre
un compas de campanillas,
y en mis manos me nacen mariposas.
Por que tu pelo merece una rosa
de terciopelo!
Bulerias/Manuel & Alba Molina
www.MatadoraFlamenca.com
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