Qué tarde que has venido

What a late time you've come,
can't you see it's winter now,
that all my tenderness life has burned away.
What a late time you've come,
if in the flames of my hell
you left only wounds instead
of a heart.

What a horrible nightmare
knowing I was losing you.
The night your pride
became a dam between us.
The night I wrapped you up,
I screamed: "Why... Why?.."
And I raised my broken fists,
clenched in your love.

Heart, don't cry,
it's not worth the pain
to remember her love,
if she was never good.
My hands are empty, empty,
like the void of a goodbye.
They can't forgive,
don't cry, heart,
because in your beating
I carry her curse.

What a late time you've come,
can't you see it's winter.
My lips are dry,
bitter as gall.
In me have unleashed
a hundred furies from hell
and I'm grumpy and sad,
the same as a cypress.

From now on,
through this street of mine,
the rain will sing to me
your tears from today.
And at every sunset,
the grimaces of a forgiveness,
will bring from the oblivion
your old curse.