Miquela
Miquela, Miquela, no se me borra lo que decías.
Caía la lluvia, pero brillaba el sol en tu ironía
Y al salir del colegio, volviendo a casa, me jurabas
que hay un solo tren,
solo pasa una vez y después adiós...
Y esperábamos juntos los dos.
En clase formales, una mirada yo y un gesto tú.
Los deseos normales después en casa con muy poca luz.
Y aquel hijo que un día no tuvo sentido
yo no sé si hoy podría tenernos unidos
para esperar esa estrella que jamás llegó a brillar.
Quién era, quién eras,
ya nuestro tren ha pasado.
No espero, no esperas,
ahora ya todo ha cambiado.
Y yo soy solamente yo y tú bastante con ser tú.
Ya ves...
Y me acuerdo de ti, entre frágil y dura.
Y me acuerdo de mí todo lleno de dudas.
Siempre esperando esa
estrella que jamás llegó a brillar.
Quién era, quién eras,
ya nuestro tren ha pasado.
No espero, no esperas,
ahora ya todo ha cambiado.
Y yo soy solamente yo y tú bastante con ser tú.
Ya ves...
Miquela, Miquela y tu sonrisa no cambiará jamás.
Y quizás aquel hijo perdido y soñado,
nos tendría a su lado a los dos
esperando ese tren que una vez ha pasado...
... ese tren que nos dijo adiós
Miquela
Miquela, Miquela, I can't forget what you said.
The rain was falling, but the sun shone through your irony.
And after school, on the way home, you swore to me
there's only one train,
it only comes once, and then it's goodbye...
And we waited together, just the two of us.
In class, a formal glance from me and a gesture from you.
The usual wishes later at home in the dim light.
And that child who one day made no sense,
I don’t know if today he could have kept us together
waiting for that star that never shone.
Who was it, who were you,
our train has already left.
I don’t wait, you don’t wait,
everything has changed now.
And I’m just me and you’re just fine being you.
You see...
And I remember you, both fragile and tough.
And I remember me, full of doubts.
Always waiting for that
star that never shone.
Who was it, who were you,
our train has already left.
I don’t wait, you don’t wait,
everything has changed now.
And I’m just me and you’re just fine being you.
You see...
Miquela, Miquela, and your smile will never change.
And maybe that lost and dreamed-of child,
would have had us both by his side
waiting for that train that has already passed...
... that train that said goodbye to us.