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• Artiste: Linda Ronstadt
• Titre: The Cicada
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Don't sing to me anymore, cicada Let your singsong end For your song, here in the soul Stabs me like a dagger Knowing that when you sing You are proclaiming that you are going to your death Sailor, sailor Tell me if it is true that you know Because I cannot distinguish If in the depth of the seas There is another color blacker Than the color of my sorrows. A little dove upon flying Bearing a wounded breast Was about to cry And told me very afflicted I'm tired of searching for A mutual love. Under the shade of a tree And to the beat of my guitar I sing this "huapango" happily Because my life is ending And I want to die singing Like the cicada dies.