El Recuerdo de Ella
Hoy que estoy tan triste
vacío de ideas
se ha posado en mis hombros
el recuerdo de ella.
Era como el vino que endulza la pena,
era como un sueño querer retenerla,
era un claro día callada y sincera.
Pero una mañana cogió su maleta
y dejó en mi frente un beso
y de nuevo mi vieja tristeza.
A veces me duele y busco sus huellas
o siento nostalgia de cosas pequeñas.
A veces la llamo y no me contesta...
Her Memory
Today that I am so sad
empty of ideas
the memory of her has settled
on my shoulders.
She was like the wine that sweetens the sorrow,
she was like a dream wanting to hold onto her,
she was a clear day, quiet and sincere.
But one morning she took her suitcase
and left a kiss on my forehead
and once again my old sadness.
Sometimes it hurts me and I look for her traces
or I feel nostalgia for small things.
Sometimes I call her and she doesn't answer...