Yolanda

A few months back, while strolling along the banks of Douro River in Porto, I encountered an intriguing street performer – seemingly unknown to many – clad in minimal attire, with a bohemian appearance, and wielding a weathered guitar. His casual, unbothered demeanor and the heartfelt lyrics of a beautiful, possibly obscure Spanish ballad, carried me far away, into the world I have skillfully created and where I often move into.

With vacant eyes, I invited this song to make its way inside me, while the Douro River carried its boats on my tears.

Yolanda

This cannot be any more than a song;
I’d wish it to be a declaration of love—
Romantic, without fixing things up in such a way
to inhibit the torrent that I feel
I love you
I love you
Eternally…I love you.
If I were to be without you, I wouldn’t die
If I were to die, I’d want it to be with you.
My solitude feels accompanied
For this reason, at times I know that I need
Your hand
Your hand
Eternally, your hand
When I saw you, I knew that it was real
This fear of finding myself discovered
You strip me bare with seven truths
You open my chest, you always overwhelm me
With love
With love
Eternally, with love
If sometimes I feel defeated,
I refuse to see the sun each morning,
Praying for the belief you’ve taught me
I see your face and say in the window
Yolanda
Yolanda
Eternally, Yolanda
Yolanda
Eternally, Yolanda
Eternally, Yolanda