When Preciosa beats her tambourine
and the sweet music wounds the empty air,
it is pearls that drop from her hands,
flowers that she sends from her mouth.
The soul is wonderstruck and the judgement amazed
by her sweet and superhuman movements;
for their purity, their frankness and their modesty
her fame soars up till it touches the sky.
She carries a thousand souls
hanging on her lightest hair, and at her feet
Love has surrendered both his arrows.
She blinds and sheds light with her two suns;
by them Love maintains his empire, and thinks
himself capable of performing even greater prodigies.
Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra