Far in the south lies lovely Spain,
Spain is my homeland,
Where the shady chestnuts
Sough along the banks of the Ebro,
Where the almonds bloom pinkly,
Where the hot grape beckons
And the roses glow more beautifully
And the moonlight twinkles more beautifully.

And now I wander with my lute
Sadly here from house to house,
But no bright eyes have yet 
Peered out amiably to me.
People hand me meagre gifts,
Dourly they command me to go;
Ah, not a single person wishes to understand
The poor brown boy.

 ... 

When at the last harvest festival
They held the great dance,
I recently play the best
Of my songs.
But as the pairs twirled
In the gold of the evening sun,
Hot tears rolled
Down my brown cheeks.

During the dancing, ah, I thought 
Of the joys of my homeland,
Where in the scented radiance of the moon
Every bosom breathes more freely;
Where, to the tones of the zither,
Every foot twirls as if winged,
And the lad with his lovely maiden
Fervently dances the steps of the fandango.

No! the yearning beating of my heart,
I can no longer hold it back;
I will gladly renounce every joy,
Only leave me the happiness of my homeland!
Off to the south! Off to Spain,
Into the land full of sunshine!
Under the shade of the chestnuts
I must someday be buried!