Granada, tierra sonada por mi,
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mi cantar se vuelve gitano
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cuando es para ti.
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Mi cantar, hecho de fantasia;
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mi cantar, flor de melancolia,
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que yo te vengo a dar.
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Granada, tierra ensangrentada
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en tardes de toros,
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mujer que conserva el embrujo
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de los ojos moros.
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De sueno, rebelde, gitana
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cubierta de flores,
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y beso tu boca de grana,
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jugosa manzana
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que me habla de amores.
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Granada, manola, cantada
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en coplas preciosas,
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no tengo otra cosa que darte
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que un ramo de rosas,
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de rosas de suave fragrancia
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que le dieran marco a la Virgen morena.
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Granada, tu tierra esta llena
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de lindas mujeres, de sangre y de sol.
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Translation:
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Granada, land of my dreams,
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mine becomes a gypsy song
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when I sing to you.
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My song, born of fancy;
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my song, melancholy flower,
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that I've come to offer you.
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Granada, land covered in blood
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from the bullfighting afternoons,
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woman who retains the spell
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of Moorish eyes.
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A dream-land, a rebel, a gypsy,
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covered with flowers,
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and I kiss your scarlet mouth,
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juicy apple
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that tells me about love affairs.
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Granada, my beautiful, sung
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in precious coplas,
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I have nothing else to give you
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but a bouquet of roses
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worthy of adorning the brown-skinned Virgin.
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Granada, your soil is full
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of beautiful woman, blood and sunshine.
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Granada
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Russell Watson |