Cuándo Baja La Marea

Air, in this slow summer afternoon
Your memory is a gray photo
That the hours are blurring

How difficult to draw your features
Half a day after leaving

Air, if your eyes were black figs
If your teeth lemon slices
I don't remember the arch of your eyebrows

I can't even hardly talk
About anything other than your smell

The mind when the tide goes out
Out of pure instinct for preservation
Tries to cauterize every trace
Left behind by the passage of love

The mind when the tide goes out
Revealing the structure of pain
Activates a defense mechanism
So the heart doesn't drown

Air
(I'm out of breath)
In this slow summer afternoon
(I can't describe you)
Your memory is a gray photo
(Barely outlined)
That the hours are blurring
(No, no)

Air
(I try to draw)
Your features, but I can hardly do it anymore
(No matter how hard I try)
How difficult it is to recognize
(With everything we love)
That you have left barely a trace
(No, no)

Air, suffocates when the tide goes out
And the shipwreck is already total
What a pity