Cuando era joven,
My mother would give me besitos,
Tuck me into bed,
Give me my merienda,
Leche y pan dulce.
My father would tell me stories,
About his home town,
And his brothers and sisters,
Running around en el campo,
Jugando en el sol hasta la noche.
They would tell me to enjoy my childhood,
Play and run and have fun
And en la noche, they would tell me stories
And they all started the same way…
Copyright 2017. José Cruz. All rights reserved.