Remando Sobre El Polvo
El Ultimo De La Fila
Rowing Over the Dust
Bathe the moon in Scorpio the road I step on;
there I go, road of memories
gray as a dirty cloud.
Oh! oh! in the abyss that is in your arms.
oh! oh! I want to fall.
From today I will be just a man
submerged, like so many, in his despair.
quietly, mining soul,
pulverize the hours I have lived in you.
what madness it is to still love you,
what faints reason has.
An untiring traveler I have become today,
a traveler who pretends to forget.
road of memories,
where delirium dwells in passion.
Oh! oh! without the abyss that is in your arms.
oh! oh! I will die from so much suffering.
I hope for launches of the harshness
that I suppose to the time that is to come.
hopes, not regrets.
a boat without water cannot sail.
I will row on the dry riverbed.
over the dust, as I advance,
I will pave the way to the sea.