The Lechuza’s Aria

Una vieja bruja.

That’s what they call me -

An ugly old Witch.

Lechuza.

Woman by day,

owl by night.

Flying around

the three o’clock hour.

Una mujer fea .

That’s how they see me -

A disgraceful dark Woman .

Hechicera .

But they know nothing .

The puritanical ,

holier than thou ,

sinners hiding behind

ministerial clothing.

Hipócritas .

Waving around their crosses ,

though it’s the devil that

possesses their truth.

Mentirosos.

But they refuse to know -

Pájaro...

Negro...

Hermoso...

What they refuse to see -

Beautiful...

Magic...

Bird ...

Glossy black feathers ,

darker than a moonless night ,

eyes large and round ,

fiery embers to see

through distorted souls .

Mi

canción

encantador.

The guilty fall victim to me ,

soothed to a trance by my

alluring ,

imprisoning ,

lullaby.

Una sirena .

Then they sing back in

a screech,

howl,

the faintest whistle.

Like fools,

they think themselves invincible,

with mockery as their shield.

So I carry them off

with strong,

golden talons .

Deep into night

to face the

gnarled wickedness

that hides within the human soul.

And here they shall stay,

forever singing

my endless lullaby,

joined by others that fell

for the lechuza's cry.