Triste Domingo
Read Triste Domingo lyrics by Abbey Lincoln on LyroVerse, with linked artist context and related song paths.
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Triste Domingo
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Triste domingo, con cien flores blancas
Y ornado el altar de mi loca ilusión
Donde mi alma se ha ido a postrar
Mientras mi boca llamándote está
Muere en mi sueños ocasos de hastío
Cansados de espera y de soledad
¡Triste domingo!
Tú no comprendes la angustia terrible
De estar esperando, sin verte, llegar
¡Vuelen tus pasos que debo marchar!
No ves que muero con mi loco afán
Quiero que seas la blanca y piadosa
Mortaja que cubra mi hora final
¡Triste destino!
Querido
Junto a mi ataúd que circundan muchas flores
Aguarda mi confesión un sacerdote
Y a él le digo:
Lo quiero, lo espero.
No temas nada si encuentras mis ojos
Sin vida y abiertos y esperandoté
Tus manos son quien los deben cerrar
Y acaso entonces yo habré muerto en paz
Siento un doblar de campanas, que
Lugubremente sus voces me ordena marchar
¡Triste domingo!
¡Vuela mi vida tu paso querido
Que llega la hora uque debo partir!
Quiero tenerte en mi viaje final
Y algo me dice que no llegarás
Triste domingo visitame amado
Que ahora en mi tumba yo te he de esperar
¡He de esperar!
What this page can answer fast
Who performs "Triste Domingo"?
Abbey Lincoln performs "Triste Domingo", and this lyric page sits inside the Abbey Lincoln catalog on LyroVerse.
Are there related songs to explore after "Triste Domingo"?
Yes. The related section below points to Afro-Blue and And It's Supposed To Be Love with a short reason for opening each page next.
Where can I find more songs by Abbey Lincoln?
Use the artist link near the top of the page or the related paths section below to keep moving through Abbey Lincoln's lyric pages.
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