La herida de París
Luis Alberto Spinetta
The Wound of Paris
Slow tired mist giving to the dock
I see no landscapes other than this sea
May its wind bring back life and calm
May it see its boats return with light
Your shadow cleaves the distance
It's like a petal of salt
And your gaze takes my breath away
It will be the wound of Paris, ah, ah, ah
Stone and halo of laser and mystery
Your ray takes away my loneliness
What will become of your old white ship
Will you know how to return it with light?
Today I see more shadows than anything
Your sweetness would make me laugh
And your heart full of fire
Will be the arrow of Paris
Your shadow cleaves the distance
It's like a petal of salt
And your heart overcomes the ruins
It will be the wound of Paris
