Te Contarán

They will tell you, the dew of the early morning
They will tell you, the pupils of the springs
The blue sky, the morning that milks the dreams
The cundiamor and the clockwork of time

They will tell you, the moon and the stars
They will tell you, the skies of the road
They will tell you, that there is not on Earth
a heart that loves you like I do

The sigh of the butterfly will tell you
A lyrical concert of roses will tell you
The old sea, the collagen of memories
and the alley of the warm aroma of kisses
They will tell you, listen, the Sun and the palm trees
They will tell you, the kings and the lilies
They will tell you, that there is not in this century
a heart that loves you the same

I will crown you with songs of sand
and I will write a poem of contemplation
I will solve the thesis of your ear
I will proclaim a theorem of this great love, listen

They will tell you, the moon and the stars
They will tell you, the skies of the road
They will tell you, that there is not on Earth
a heart that loves you the same
a heart that loves you the same
a heart that loves you the same, like I do

Ohhh listen

But what I'm saying is that you won't find love like mine
(on Earth)
Not even in a concert of kisses on the sand
(in the stars)

No, no, you won't find a little affection
(on Earth)
Not even in a comet or in the infinite space
in the stars, listen

They will tell you, listen, the moon and the stars
They will tell you, the skies of the road
They will tell you, that there is not on Earth
a heart that loves you the same
a heart that loves you the same
a heart that loves you the same, like I do