El Manantial
Ay, amor que te vas
Como ave fugaz
Y el plumaje lo deja
Donde se anidó.
Ay, amor que te vas
Esperando encontrar
Lo que nunca has hallado
Ni hallarás.
Érase un camino muerto por los años
Y el dolor de ser camino
Y no poder caminar,
Lo ataban al cruel destino
De esperar, de esperar.
Y llegó un manantial
Cauce joven de amar
Y se puso a regar lo que murió.
Ni el amor, ni el olor
De agua fresca de amar
Pudieron impedir lo que pasó.
Érase un camino muerto por los años
Y el dolor de ser camino
Y no poder caminar,
Lo ataban al cruel destino
De esperar, de esperar.
Y llegó un manantial
Cauce joven de amar
Y se puso a regar lo que murió.
Ni el amor, ni el olor
De agua fresca de amar
Pudieron impedir lo que pasó.
El manantial se secó,
El camino se murió.
The Spring
Oh, love, you're leaving
Like a fleeting bird
And the feathers you leave
Where you nested.
Oh, love, you're leaving
Hoping to find
What you've never found
And never will.
There was a road dead for years
And the pain of being a road
And not being able to walk,
It was tied to a cruel fate
Of waiting, of waiting.
And then a spring arrived
A young stream of love
And it started to water what had died.
Neither love, nor the scent
Of fresh water of love
Could stop what happened.
There was a road dead for years
And the pain of being a road
And not being able to walk,
It was tied to a cruel fate
Of waiting, of waiting.
And then a spring arrived
A young stream of love
And it started to water what had died.
Neither love, nor the scent
Of fresh water of love
Could stop what happened.
The spring dried up,
The road died.