Manida translates to "lair" or "abode," and it usually refers to the den of a wild animal. It’s a beautifully rare and poetic word that you won't hear in everyday conversation.
In this song, which adapts a 16th-century poem by Saint John of the Cross, the term describes the hidden source of a mystical, eternal fountain. Calling the source a manida gives it a sense of wild, sacred secrecy, making it a powerful and memorable image.
This song is something special. ROSALÍA isn't singing her own diary entry here; she's performing a famous poem by a 16th-century Spanish mystic, Saint John of the Cross. The whole song circles around one powerful image: a secret fountain that flows in the dark. The singer keeps repeating, "Qué bien sé yo la fuente que mana y corre / Aunque es de noche" (I know so well the fountain that flows and runs / Although it is night). This isn't about a literal fountain in a park. It's about a spiritual source of life and truth that you can feel and know through faith, even when everything around you is dark and uncertain, like the night.
This fountain is the source of everything. The lyrics say its origin is a mystery, "pues no lo tiene" (because it has none), but at the same time, "todo origen de ella viene" (all origin comes from it). It's so powerful that its waters reach everyone and everywhere, watering "cielos, infiernos... y la gente" (heavens, hells... and the people). The song connects this mystical water to the "pan de vida" (bread of life), a direct reference to a source of spiritual nourishment. It's a song about finding absolute certainty and light in a hidden, divine place, even in the darkest of times.