Una Canción a Cuatro Tiempos

I write to you a song in four beats
Because it's easier to write this way
I write to you, inspiration of my sorrows
To tell you that you're the reason for my condition

Every time the moon passes in its carriage, I'm no longer here
The way home is home, time is baggage, and I'm already leaving

I write to you, this song without argument
Where there's no trace of your appearance
I write to you, unintentionally, not writing consciously
Surviving with ideas that remained and have not been enough

Every time the moon passes in its carriage, I'm no longer here
The way home is home, time is baggage, and I'm already leaving