A Vegades El Món Em Fa Por
Camines
sesnse mirar-me
rumio
un altre cop,
silencis
que fan més mal que les paraules de tots dos.
Somies
la seva cara,
el penses
i no sóc jo.
Acabes de decidir que l´unic cert és un error
Dius cansada
mentre esquives la mirada
bona nit amb veu tan trista
que no em veig amb cor de dir-te
Que a vegades el món em fa por,
a vegades no tinc la raó.
porta l´aire olor de demà;
no fa gaire em vas estimar.
esperes
una trucada,
arribo
massa aviat,
despenges
i ens fas creure a tots dos que ens hem equivocat.
Inventes una altra excusa,
l´escolto
dissimulant,
remenes
aquella foto on em mires com abans.
Dius com sempre
que no ajusti la finestra
i així arriba una altra nit antiga,
freda com el vent que es filtra.
A vegades el món em fa por,
a vegades no tinc la raó.
porta l´aire olor de demà;
no fa gaire em vas estimar.
Coses que no
són de tu i jo
omplen els marges i els pinten de fosc.
Bales de dol
obren ferides que el temps no resol.
A vegades el món em fa por,
a vegades no tinc la raó.
porta l´aire olor de demà;
no fa gaire em vas estimar.
Sometimes the World Scares Me
You walk
without looking at me
I chew
on it again,
silences
that hurt more than both our words.
You dream
of their face,
you think of them
and it’s not me.
You just decided that the only truth is a mistake
You say you’re tired
while you avoid my gaze
goodnight with a voice so sad
that I can’t bring myself to tell you
That sometimes the world scares me,
sometimes I’m not right.
the air carries the scent of tomorrow;
it wasn’t long ago you loved me.
you wait
for a call,
I arrive
too soon,
you hang up
and make us both believe we were wrong.
You invent another excuse,
I listen
pretending,
you shuffle
that photo where you look at me like before.
You say as always
not to adjust the window
and so another old night arrives,
cold as the wind that seeps in.
Sometimes the world scares me,
sometimes I’m not right.
the air carries the scent of tomorrow;
it wasn’t long ago you loved me.
Things that don’t
belong to you and me
fill the margins and paint them dark.
Bitter bullets
open wounds that time doesn’t heal.
Sometimes the world scares me,
sometimes I’m not right.
the air carries the scent of tomorrow;
it wasn’t long ago you loved me.