From the balcony I see her

In the composure of the night

The Bailaora takes over the streets

As she absorbs the mood into the moonlight

I perceive the Jaleadors and Jaleadoras

Providing the ultimate rhythmic Palma

She smiles enticingly.

 

Arms held high

Above her head

She looks so sturdy

So proud of herself

Her hands turn inwards

Then outwards

Then the zapateado begins

 

Observing, I dream

If only I could be

The Bailaora of the ball

 

I close the scenery

Yet in my heart

I can feel the rhythm

My feet feel

The passion:

the embrace of it all