Alma - Aniki перевод на английский

Alma

Es frialdad contra sensibilidad,
Es la empatia,
Ponte en mi lugar,¿que pasa?,
¿Porque no juzgas mi sueño mi cara?,
Mi comportamiento no surge de la nada,
Le llaman poesia yo le llamo alma,
No juzgar desde la ignorancia,
No dejar que te jodan,
Le llaman poesia, yo le llamo alma,
Cuando anhelas el placer,
Ansiada droga es la ignorancia, es el Eden,
Lo que tu suspiro reclama,
Se llama poesia yo le llamo alma.

¿Que hay de malo en reconocerse noble?,
Si es asi como yo soy,
Si no encuentro mi par entre mundo de nones,
Sigo recogiendo los arapos de humildad,
De mi bondad,
Y entre ellos solo hay mierda, mil escombros,
Aparta el fusil que me esta jodiendo tu mirada,
Me dio la alarma,
Culpable,¿de que?,
Rechazo,¿por que?,
Por hacer lo que el instinto me dictaba,
Pero aun sudan tus palabras,
Aun escuezen en mi piel,
Me duele tragar la sal de tus miradas,
Me duele el alma ...

Le llaman poesia, yo le llamo alma,
Cuando combates el poder,
Y huyes de la militancia es el Eden,
Buscar verbal con tus palabras de esperanzas,
Le llaman poesia, yo le llamo alma,
Yo le llamo alma, le llamo alma ...

Le llaman poesia yo le llamo alma,
Cuando compartes el Eden,
Con las personas deseadas, mirame,
Soy fruto de experiencias derrama,
Le llaman poesia, yo le llamo alma,
Le llaman poesia, yo le llamo alma,
Le llaman poesia, yo le llamo alma,
Le llaman poesia, yo le llamo alma,
Le llaman poesia, yo le llamo alma.

Alma

It's frigidity against sensitivity,
It's empathy,
Put yourself in my place, what happens?,
Why don't you judge my dream my face?,
My behavior does not come out of nothing,
They call it poetry I call it soul,
Not judging from ignorance,
Not letting them screw you up,
They call it poetry, I call it soul,
When you crave pleasure,
The desired drug is ignorance, it is Eden,
What your sigh claims,
It's called poetry I call it soul.

What's wrong with acknowledging yourself noble?,
If that's how I am,
If I can't find my pair among the world of nines,
I keep picking up the rags of humility,
Of my goodness,
And among them there's only shit, a thousand ruins,
Take away the rifle that my look is screwing up,
It set off the alarm,
Guilty, of what?,
Rejection, why?,
For doing what my instinct dictated me,
But your words still sweat,
They still sting my skin,
It hurts to swallow the salt of your looks,
My soul hurts ...

They call it poetry, I call it soul,
When you fight the power,
And you flee from militancy it is Eden,
Searching for a verbal with your words of hope,
They call it poetry, I call it soul,
I call it soul, I call it soul ...

They call it poetry I call it soul,
When you share Eden,
With the desired people, look at me,
I am the fruit of poured-out experiences,
They call it poetry, I call it soul,
They call it poetry, I call it soul,
They call it poetry, I call it soul,
They call it poetry, I call it soul,
They call it poetry, I call it soul.