Once I heard someone tell
a story, que había
in a tale
Al canto alegre of the men
who’s like the sun.
Rain fell and my soul
believed in that tale,
Que había traído solo
Una ilusión.
of this great dream
that I carry within me
At first, I believed
that a star was shining
with life,
and we didn’t need night
to see its light.
A love story,
Ilusión and tenderness.
Only the poet knows
that night cried,
because the firmament knows
that star died.

Girl, I want to tell you
how the sense of things changes,
how one door opens or narrows
your way of being.

A white-winged bird flies high at your level.
I want to tell you, girl, todo cómo lo vi ayer

I can’t take it anymore,
I can’t take it anymore,
I can’t take it anymore,
I can’t take it anymore.

Yes or no?
Yes or no?

Come to the door,
Come to the door,
it opens or narrows según tu forma de ser
it opens or narrows según tu forma de ser, quiero contarte

It was like a dream, a deep, beautiful dream of ours,
Todo se alborotaba with the happiness of being

I can’t take it anymore
I can’t take it anymore
I can’t take it anymore
I can’t take it anymore

A corner like any other
and under the light of a streetlamp,
some young people speak
and talk about their lives.
La ilusión of that love.
They dream of being great,
of being important.
Qué más da
pero sólo queda … all that remains
is the light of the streetlamp
to illuminate
your loneliness.

Winds and rains
assail my heart
every time I think of you,
a flame of light and passion
sweeps the path
of woken shadows
sin fin has de volver
southern winds
bring me your voice
full of memories
and heat
from a dark corner
within my being
they shout, shout at me, shout at me,
...has de volver
Triana, rivers and seas
full of shadows and light,
mountains, valleys and flowers,
full of shadows and light.

I want and am unable,
to express what I feel for you
I want and I can’t stop
living like this.
And an air that froze
ran through the marshes
que en un momento
dreamt of the mountains
come, come, come,
I want to sing to you,
come, come, come,
to freedom,
dream and fantasy,
se vuelven a juntar en
a moment
that I don’t want to remember,
I’d like to know if it’s true,
sólo, sólo sé.

The sun is born in the morning
and by night it grows dark
and the cricket’s monotonous music
lulls you to sleep
and carries you
and lifts you.

Time not knowing where you are,
time that went by
without warning.
But I’m trying to discover
if truth
is part of who I am,
of who you are.
Time that leaves...

The tree grows, the wheat is born
and memories grow too,
and the days heal the
wounds
in your mind
and carries you
and lifts you.

Time not knowing...

Una esquina cualquiera                                                                                                         y bajo la luz de un farol                                                                                            unos jóvenes, hablan                                                                                                              y se cuentan sus vidas.                                                                                                        La ilusión de aquel amor.                                                                                                     They dream of being great,                                                                                                 of being important.                                                                                                          Qué más da                                                                                                                    pero sólo queda un poco más tarde                                                                                    la luz del farol                                                                                                               para alumbrar                                                                                                                      tu soledad.