Vals de otoño [English translation]

Is the glory of the dead summer

the one that fell asleep in my heart,

is the grey trembling of the autumn

the one that opens ways with shy sound.

Behind the fields of golden vines,

the turned on soul fell asleep,

today they bring near distant and raised,

lazy memories that the wind took away.

La ra la la ra...

Truths are only words

you can believe or not

and until here the crispy autumn

that a tapestry of leaves embroidered

Crickets will die slowly,

singing its anthem with fierce tenacity

and the fields will dress in brown

ironically in shape of goodbye.

And again the crispy autumn

will bring to our lives a new color,

wiping with its warm rain

impure desires of fire and sun.

La ra la la ra...

Truths are only words

you can believe or not

and until here the crispy autumn

that a tapestry of leaves embroidered.

And my eyes close asleep

of many insomnias, of much color

and my hands cross looking for

that other hand dyed in sun.

And again the crispy autumn

will bring to our lives a new color,

wiping with its warm rain

impure desires of fire and sun.

La ra la la ra...