El Tiempo Está Después [English translation]

Llupes' street, line in the middle

Finds Belvedere

The train greets from below

Sadly whistling

Those infinites rows

Departing from Central

The cobbled is covered

But still, there it is

The spring on that neighbourhood

It's called loneliness

It's called cries of tenderness

Asking to get in

In the rush it's raining

My tears will no longer

Tighten your pockets

You changed your coat

One day, we will find each other

At another carnival

We will be lucky if we learn that

There is no corner

There is no port

That could ever possibly dissolve

In its hideout what we were

Time comes afterwards...