Las Casas de Madera
Ramón Ayala
The Wooden Houses
The wind blows
How cold it is outside
Only the wooden houses creak
The dry leaves cover the sidewalks
And black clouds keep covering me
The wind blows
And nothing comforts me
Without you my life ends and you don't even know
My soul falters, I wish you would give me
My image is sad, sadness covers me
The wooden houses
Seem to be collapsing
Just like me, they complain
Since you left
The wooden houses
Crack with the wind
And if you don't come back
One day they will bury me
The wind blows
And nothing comforts me
