A ship of stone in the valley,
anchored for centuries on the banks of the Ara
across from the island of la Velilla
between the coasts of Fiscal and Boltaña

How could I imagine, I
who dreamed of the sea,
that a cursed reservoir, ayayay
would drown my house.

To Jánovas, la Velilla and Lacort
I say goodbye.
Goodbye little wrecked boats.
Goodbye my poor country, forever.

And although many years have passed
I will never forget that morning
when I discovered that pirates
were not just for fairy tales.

When they boarded the village
and we had to leave home
my childhood suddenly vanished
on seeing my mother’s tears.

How could I imagine, I
who dreamed of the sea,
that a cursed reservoir, ayayay
would drown my house.

To Jánovas, la Velilla and Lacort
I say goodbye.
Goodbye little wrecked boats.
Goodbye my poor country, forever.

Will-o’-the-wisps amid the ruins
wrecks on the sad beach:
there are still nights when a ghost ship
navigates my nightmares.

And every time it crosses my bedroom
I wake up drenched in sweat and rage,
for I know that it came to tell me
that another house has fallen in my dead village.

How could I imagine, I
who dreamed of the sea,
that a cursed reservoir, ayayay
would drown my house.

To Jánovas, la Velilla and Lacort
I say goodbye.
Goodbye little wrecked boats.
Goodbye my poor country, forever.
Goodbye my poor country, forever.
Goodbye my poor country, forever….

Words and music: Manuel Domínguez
Traduction: Stephen Cracknell