Por favor.

¿  A dónde vas  ?

¿A dónde vas, ternura?

A donde no te puedo ver. Ni acariciar.

Ni        s o s t e n e r.

... Es un balde de agua fría tu partir

y                        sofocante                 emancipar.

         Este                                  sentir   ;

sin embargo, está prohibido     l    l    o    r    a     r       .


Rehusándome a morir        ,          me resigno a renunciar.

Cierra la puerta al salir,

Por f(a)vor p r o (m) e t e n(o) regresa(r).

Love Lane.

It's a mystery to me how 
This fortunate turn of fate
Made me look into your eyes 
And vanished all trace of hate.

I don't know how to turn back.
I'm not aware if it's too late;
Not sure whether to take a bow
Or start running towards the gates.

You're my taste of honey, 
And my shelter from the rain.
We don't need any money;
Of course we're not afraid of pain.

If I let go of your hand
Or say words I can't contain;
Please try and understand,
It's my first time on Love Lane.

Ever since our eyes met,
There's a damn good reason to sing;
And the only thing to regret
Is giving less than everything.

You are worth this bet,
You are worth the fall.
On your love my eyes are set
And I'm here to take it all.

never let me go

I, me, you (?)

I wondered how you felt,
I knew you met her bed.
I did some quiet talking
with the voices in my head.

Pretended to be like steel,
treason on your face was read.
It seemed you'd forgotten about us
when my heart was in my hand.

 Please remember what is real,
I know your sanity was misled;
Still, I won't ask you twice
with a promising road ahead.

Just tell me what it is.
Please tell me what is wrong;
If you cannot do this,
I'll sing you a sad song.

A song full of hatred
and sorrowful lines.
I swear to you I'll make it...
But I can't promise I'll be fine.

_____________

Fue tomado de su pecho
su inerte corazón
y vencida en aquel lecho,
fue extraída su razón.

Se adueñó de la definición
de rabia al manifestar;
fallas en su dicción,
dificultades al expresar:

"Tan penosa es tu traición,
tan doloroso el malestar,
de haberte construido
opulente e inmerecido altar."

No en vano lo antes hecho,
no en vano aquella canción.
En vano cruzar el trecho
y encontrar nula pasión.

Por amor alguno ha muerto,
hay quien mata con fervor...
Más vale deseo tuerto
que un cariño cegador.