Guantanamera, guajira Guantanamera,
A woman of Guantanamo, a young woman of Guantanamo.
I'm just a human being
who is trying to do some good before dying,
To ask each individual and her/his sister/brother-
To bear no ill toward each other.
This life will never be hollow-
To those who listen and follow.
Guantanamera, guajira Guantanamera,
A woman of Guantanamo, a young woman of Guantanamo.
I write my rhymes to uncover-
My secret feelings, the rambling thoughts of your lover.
I write my rhymes with no learning,
And yet with truth they are burning,
Yet, is the world waiting for them?
Or will they all just ignore them?
Have I a poet's illusion,
A dream to die in seclusion?
Guantanamera, guajira Guantanamera,
A woman of Guantanamo, a young woman of Guantanamo.
A little brook on a mountain,
The cooling spray of a fountain-
Arouse in me an emotion,
More than the vast boundless ocean,
For there is a wealth beyond measure-
In little things that we treasure.
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