El Loco Soñador

They say that plants don't speak
Nor the springs, nor the birds
That the sea doesn't speak with whispers
Nor do the stars with their brightness
They say that, but it's not true
Because every time I pass by
They murmur and exclaim about me
There goes the crazy dreamer

With the eternal spring of life and fields
And very soon, very soon he will have gray hair
And sees trembling, shivering that frost covers the meadow

There are gray hairs on my head
There is frost in the meadows
But I keep on dreaming
I keep inventing my fable
I dream of the spring
Of a life that fades away
And the perennial freshness
Of the fields and souls
Even if dreams run out
And even if souls burn
Stars, seas, springs, flowers
Don't murmur about my dreams
Without them, I can't admire you
Nor can I live without them
Without them, I can't admire you
Nor can I live without them

They say that plants don't speak
Nor the springs, nor the birds
That the sea doesn't speak with whispers
Nor do the stars with their brightness
They say it, they say it but it's not true
Because every time I pass by
They murmur and exclaim about me
There goes that crazy, there goes that crazy dreaming