In my brain your picture grows,
Grows!
You strain my soul like a bow.
Katerina, my heart disease,
You would break me with ease.
The day you will flee like a thief,
My future will be full of grief.
So let me ask for a few roses.
 
One, on my lips,
Red as a kiss.
Two, on my chest,
Pink and white as your breast.
Three, to my forehead,
Soon I will be dead.
A thousand for my family,
Tell them I was happy.
A billion to the sky,
To hide the mourner who cries.
 
Yesterday I was struggling,
Today I’m a lover burning.
Santiago is coming,
I fear the last morning.