It returns to be my birthday again and on my table will have two plates
although I know that this time you won't come,
I only want the gift of turning back the calendar
for these years pass going back.
I will turn a year less and to blow will give fire
to the candles that you put on the cake,
after winter will come fall, after September will come August
and tomorrow will be a little more yesterday.
For what do I want words if I already don't sing to you,
for what do I want my lips if your kisses I lost,
I don't want my springs if your violets don't grow,
from today I will grow until birth.
I would return to the most happiest day of our life,
and again would be the first time,
to my eyes would return every tear fallen
about the urgent paper telegram.
The news would tell that the bullets returned
to those weapons that aimed to kill,
they would return to life the voices that dissented
and with them something more of freedom.
For what do I want words if I already don't sing to you,
for what do I want my lips if your kisses I lost,
I don't want my springs if your violets don't grow,
from today I will grow until birth.
And for what do I want the air if your breathe is not here,
for what do I want my hands if I don't touch you,
I don't want my springs if your violets don't grow,
from today I will grow until birth.
I will grow until birth.
From today I will grow until birth.
From today I will grow until birth.