Ay amor

An afternoon of light in spring,
that takes me to your name and your borders,
a shooting star, a path,
a fragrant hand, a kiss,
your cheek, your voice, your hair.

A secret night in your refuge,
where everything of mine would be yours,
a corner to give you the usual,
a secret hand, night,
a mouth that kisses and runs...

Oh love, oh love,
this afternoon came and you weren't there,
and what will become of me,
of me without you,
if this afternoon came and you weren't there.

Everything becomes difficult that afternoon,
when everything dries up and falls apart,
don't tell me it's all over, that you can't,
that the tiredness, the bitterness,
the winter and the dark night...

Oh love, oh love,
this afternoon came and you weren't there,
and what will become of me,
of me, without you,
if this afternoon came and you weren't there.

Oh love, oh love,
this afternoon came and you weren't there,
and what will become of me,
of me, without you,
if this afternoon came and you weren't there.

Oh love!
what do I know,
if this afternoon came and you weren't there...

And what will become of me,
of me, without you,
if this afternoon came and you weren't there,
And what will become of me,
of me, without you,
if this afternoon came and you weren't there.

Oh love, oh love,
this afternoon came and you weren't there,
and what will become of me,
of me, without you,
if this afternoon came and you weren't there.