Tres damas van

From Ventanas Altas de Saloniki, 2013.

This theme is known from the Spanish tradition, a beautiful woman entering the church who is besotted by the priest. She has been faithfully waiting for her true love the king for seven years, at the end of the eighth she will marry another, the Pope of Rome, the Duke of Istanbul or a minstral. At the end of the song the king appears and they leave together.

Lyrics:
Tres damas van a la misa    por hacer la oración,
la de en medio es mi kerida,    linda de mi korazón.
 Sayo lleva sobre sayo    y un ĵuboy de alta nación,
kamisa de Holanda lleva,   sirma y perla al kabezón.
Su kabeza, bala de oro,    sus kabellos, briles son,
kuando se mete a peinarlos    en ellos despunta el sol.
Los sus ojos, lindos, pretos,   vishnas de Stanbol ya son,
su nariz aparfilada,   las sus karas flores son.
La su boka, chiquitika,   ke no kabe ni un piñón,
los sus labios korelados,   verĵanes rubios son,
los sus dientes muy menudos,    perlas de enfilar ya son,
ya se viste, ya se endorna,    para la misa partió.
Ella entrando a la misa,   la misa s’arrelumbró,
el papás ke staba meldando,   del meldar ya se arretó.
 - Melda, melda, papasiko,   ke por ti no vengo yo,
por akel ke yo venía,  a la misa no está hoy.
Siete años hay ke lo aspero   komo mujer de gran valor,
fin de los ocho si non viene,   kon otro me kaso yo:
tomaré al Papa de Roma   o al Duke de Estanbol,
si el Duke no me kere,   me toma el tañedor
ke me tañe día y noche    y de la mañanika al albor. –
Estas palabras diciendo,   ke el buen rey ke allegó.
Se tomaron mano kon mano,   ĵuntos se fueron los dos.

Translation:
Three ladies go to mass to make their prayer,
the one in the middle is my beloved, lovely of my heart.
Cloak she wears over cloak, and a jacket of high estate,
a Holland shirt she wears, silver thread and pearl at the collar.
Her head, a ball of gold, her tresses they gleam,
when she begins to comb them the sun rises in them.
Her eyes, pretty, black, they are cherries of Istanbul,
her nose, sharp and fine, her cheeks are flowers 
Her mouth, very tiny, that not even a pine nut fits,
her lips coral-colored, red rubies they are,
her teeth very small, pearls ready to be strung they are,
She dresses, she adorns herself, for mass she sets out.
She entering the mass, the mass grew bright,
the priest who was reading, from his reading withdrew.
– Read, read, little priest, for you I do not come,
for the one for whom I came, to mass he is not today.
Seven years I have awaited him like a woman of great worth,
at the end of eight, if he comes not, with another I shall wed:
I shall take the Pope of Rome or the Duke of Istanbul,
if the Duke does not want me, the minstrel will take me
who plays for me day and night and from early dawn till light. 
These words she was saying, when the good king arrived.
They took each other hand in hand, together departed the two.