Que me importa el Calvario
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si amarte es sufrir,
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o que juegues con cartas marcadas.
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Lo que importa es las noches
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pasadas en ti,
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aunque a cambio me rompas el alma.
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?Que me importa la vida!
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?De que sirve vivir
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si me falta tu cuerpo caliente?
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Lo que importa es tocarte
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y apagar esta sed,
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que tan solo me apaga tu fuente.
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Que sin ti nada tiene valor,
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y por eso soy tuyo,
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esclavo y senor.
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Cosas del amor,
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cosas de la vida:
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Tu eres mi aguila real,
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yo soy tu gacela herida.
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Cosas de tu carne,
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cosas de tu piel,
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que me arrastra por las olas
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como barco de papel.
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Cosas del amor,
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cosas de la vida:
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tu me haces el dolor
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y me curas las heridas.
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Cosas de tu cuerpo,
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cosas de mi voz
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predicando en el desierto
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de tu absurdo corazon.
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?Para que quiero aire
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si respiro de ti?
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?Para que quiero luz
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ni ventanas?
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Si me basta sentirte amarrada a mi piel,
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y saber que a tu modo me amas.
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Que me importa esperarte
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una y mil veces mas
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si al final tu me inundas el tiempo.
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Lo que importa es mirarte
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en silencio y saber
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que tal vez sin tenerte
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te tengo.
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Que sin ti nada tiene valor,
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y por eso soy tuyo
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esclavo y senor.
|
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Cosas del amor,
|
cosas de la vida:
|
Tu eres mi aguila real,
|
yo soy tu gacela herida.
|
|
Cosas de tu carne,
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cosas de tu piel,
|
que me arrastra por las olas
|
como barco de papel
|
|
Cosas del amor,
|
cosas de la vida:
|
tu me haces el dolor
|
y me curas las heridas.
|
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Cosas de tu cuerpo,
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cosas de mi voz
|
predicando en el desierto
|
de tu absurdo corazon.
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Things of Love
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What does the Calvary matter
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if to love you is to suffer
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Or that you play with marked cards
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What matters are the nights
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spent with you,
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even if in return you tear my soul
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What do I care about life?
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What's the point of living
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if I don't have your hot body?
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What matters is to touch you
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and to quench this thirst,
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that only your fountain quenches for me.
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Without you nothing has value,
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and for that I'm yours,
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slave and gentleman
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Things of love
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Things of life
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You are my golden eagle
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And I'm your injured gazelle
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Things of your flesh
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Things of your skin
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That drags me through the waves
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like a paper boat
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Things of love,
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Things of life
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You cause me pain and
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you heal my wounds
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Things of your body,
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things of my voice
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preaching in the desert
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about your absurd heart
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Why do I want air
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if I breath of you?
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Why do I want light
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or windows
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if to feel you on my skin is enough
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and to know that you love me anyway
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What does it matter to wait for you a
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thousand and one more times
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If in the end you eliminate the time
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What matters is to see you
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in silence and to know
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that perhaps without having you
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I have you.
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That with out you nothing has value
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and that's why I'm yours,
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slave and gentleman
|
|
Things of love
|
Things of life
|
You are my golden eagle
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And I'm your injured gazelle
|
|
Things of your flesh
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Things of your skin
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That drags me through the waves
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like a paper boat
|
|
Things of love,
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Things of life
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You cause me pain and you
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heal my wounds
|
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Things of your body,
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things of my voice
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preaching in the desert
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about your absurd heart
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-----------------
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Cosas Del Amor
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| Enrique Iglesias |
