The sun has not come out yet
and Ana and Miguel
are already on fire.
She is on him,
a man and a woman
making a jumble of their bed.

And the sea-that is mad about Ana-
prefers not to look;
jealousy does not spare
neither the water, nor the seaweed, nor the salt.

By dawn,
Miguel is already
in his boat.
"Kiss me, my love,"
he says, "and stand still on the beach
awaiting my return."

The sea murmurs in its language,
"Wretched fisherman!,
do say goodbye to her.
I don't want to share her heart."

And she cries and cries and cries for him.
She stands on the beach
waiting and waiting and waiting for Miguel.

Some say in the village
that that white rock is Ana.
She still waits on the beach,
her body covered with salt and corals.

"Don't wait any longer stone girl.
Miguel will not return.
The sea took him prisoner
because he did not want to let it have his woman."

And she cries and cries and cries for him.
She stands on the beach
waiting and waiting and waiting for Miguel.

Some people even say
that when there is a storm
it is Miguel who stirs the waves
fighting to death against the sea.

And she cries and cries and cries for him.
She stands on the beach
waiting and waiting and waiting for Miguel.