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Song of the Poor
Ay que trabajo me cuesta
quererte como te quiero!
Because I love you the table
And the heart and the lamplight
Feel sorry for me.
Who will buy from me
That small belt I have
And that sadness of white thread
To weave handkerchiefs?
Because I love you the ceiling
And the heart and the air
Feel sorry for me.
Ay que trabajo me cuesta
quererte como te quiero!