Tus horas mágicas [English translation]

I dream of the days when you could well return

to that past, so accidental.

Rain provokes in us the habitual,

plants automatic nostalgias.

I travel through the days born of coincidence,

the radio plays that fatal song,

while the most sentimental sky

spits rains to threaten.

What could I want more than to steal from the past

your magic hours, your cloudy skies.

But your eyes have the whole summer.

It's neither early nor late, for more.

I lost faith in those yesterdays we were.

I keep understanding while I walk the path,

while I repeat the word destiny,

I bring you and imagine myself, all else.

I enter and leave from hours of nerves and tranquility,

no absence to lament,

and a twilight opportunity

to think of where to land.

I dream I return from where I never wanted to me.

The spring is late in the city.

Life gives us back a hi and bye,

and some souls that will return.

What could I want more than to steal from the past

your magic hours, your cloudy skies.

Today your eyes have the whole summer.

It's neither early nor late, for more.

I lost faith in those yesterdays we were.

I keep understanding while I walk the path,

while I repeat the word destiny.

I bring you and imagine myself, all else.