Paroles et traduction Nativa - Aquelas Noites

Aquelas Noites

Malasaña enseña su noche,
Ya mañana, los reproches.
Quemo el puente y ya no hay retorno,
Somos reyes sin capa ni trono.
Los tesoros que esconde Granada
Son eslabones, cadenas que atrapan.
Sucumbimos a las trampas,
Suenan flautas que atraen estas ratas.

Amanece, no es lo que parece,
Y la luz es como un ataúd.
¡Es una cruz!
Una inquietud que calmar,
Un incendio que prendo
En cualquier lugar.
Bailo tanto el canto de sirena
Que disfraza mi pena y siento que me atrae.
Pero, ¿quién? ¿quién?
Me dice ¡ven! ¡ven!
Es un mensaje que escriben las noches salvajes.

Aquelas noites
Passadas de madrugada
Junto ao fogo da fogueira,
A bahía iluminada.
Aquelas noites,
Minha terra namorada,
Muita coisa complicada.

No hay vergüenza,
No hay estrés,
¡Hoy me calzo un 43!
Y gritamos no importa la hora
Si Zamora es la banda sonora.
Buenos Aires, su baile, su cumbia.
Terremoto en Santiago es mi tumba.
Nos ahogamos con pulque en D. F.
Hoy quemamos el número 13.

A piel de letra me quito la careta
Y en la escena me siento bien.
Cosa de locos, me ciega el foco,
Dulce que amarga en la boca del lobo.
Tú, que tanto te acercas
Y yo, que intento olvidar mi condena.
Me levanto y sigo siendo presa
De mil y una noches ardiendo en la hoguera.

Aquelas noites
Passadas de madrugada
Junto ao fogo da fogueira,
A bahía iluminada.
Aquelas noites,
Minha terra namorada,
Muita coisa complicada.

Aquelas noites
Passadas de madrugada
Junto ao fogo da fogueira,
A bahía iluminada.
Aquelas noites,
Minha terra namorada,
Muita coisa complicada.

Aquelas noites
Passadas de madrugada
Junto ao fogo da fogueira,
A bahía iluminada.
Aquelas noites,
Minha terra namorada,
Muita coisa complicada.

Those Nights

Malasaña shows its night,
Tomorrow, the reproaches.
I burn the bridge and there's no going back,
We are kings without a cape or throne.
The treasures that Granada hides
Are links, chains that trap.
We succumb to the traps,
The flutes that attract these rats sound.

Day is breaking, it's not what it seems,
And the light is like a coffin.
It's a cross!
A restlessness to calm down,
A fire that I light
Anywhere.
I dance so much the siren's song
That disguises my sorrow and I feel it attracts me.
But who? Who?
Tells me come! come!
It is a message that the wild nights write.

Those nights
Spent after midnight
Next to the fire of the bonfire,
The bay illuminated.
Those nights,
My beloved land,
Many complicated things.

There is no shame,
There is no stress,
Today I wear a 43!
And we scream no matter what time
If Zamora is the soundtrack.
Buenos Aires, its dance, its cumbia.
Terremoto in Santiago is my grave.
We drown with pulque in D. F.
Today we burn number 13.

I take off my mask literally
And I feel good on stage.
Crazy stuff, the spotlight blinds me,
Sweet that is bitter in the wolf's den.
You, who come so close
And I, who try to forget my sentence.
I get up and I am still a prisoner
Of a thousand and one nights burning in the bonfire.

Those nights
Spent after midnight
Next to the fire of the bonfire,
The bay illuminated.
Those nights,
My beloved land,
Many complicated things.

Those nights
Spent after midnight
Next to the fire of the bonfire,
The bay illuminated.
Those nights,
My beloved land,
Many complicated things.

Those nights
Spent after midnight
Next to the fire of the bonfire,
The bay illuminated.
Those nights,
My beloved land,
Many complicated things.