Como Se Muere de Amor

The garden; a flower shines its whiteness in the window
In the bedroom, that sick person repeats with a weak voice
I love you, only silence responds to his pain
And a violin seems to say: How love dies

In a little white house, with a window overlooking the garden
Softly in the distance, the harmony of a violin is heard
There's a little white bed, a small table; a flower
Several distracted chairs that watch bored
A little sick person in love

Eternally; a smile
Slides through his mouth
Impregnated with pain
And in his gaze, serene and pure
There's a book of bitterness
And a love story

Then mysteriously
A woman arrives there
And with a kiss on the forehead
Pours all her love

Everyone has fallen silent!
And they watch with pain
On her cold face
Where the mark is printed
Of the one who is dying of love

And the violins in a sigh
Are saying: I am inspired; in a poem of illusion
And in his gaze, serene and pure
There's a book of bitterness
And a love story

There's a book of bitterness
And a love story