Текст и перевод песни Capitán Cobarde - Una Flor

Una Flor

En su cara habia mas horas que un reloj,
No escuchaba nada de su alrededor,
Solamente echaba cuentas
A los heroes invisibles del salón.

Cuando niño la miraba en el balcón,
Le gritaba a los ejercitos que no,
Que las bombas de la guerra
Secuestraron para siempre su razón.

Yo fui testigo en su vejez
De la tormenta que calló
En los hombros malheridos de una flor,
Una flor,
Una flor,
Una flor.

Su sonrisa era inocente y de repente
Avisaba en el absurdo a los presentes
Que un pariente que hace años que murió
Le estaba metiendo mano.

Yo recuerdo las mañanas de verano,
Se peinaba cuatro pelos todo el rato,
Repeinada y con horquillas me asombraba,
Nunca vi tal perfección, una flor.

Yo fui testigo en su vejez
De la tormenta que calló
En los hombros malheridos de una flor,
Una flor,
Una flor,
Una flor.

Mil historias de ella te podria contar,
Pero hay cosas que no quieras escuchar,
Pues las bombas de la guerra
Estallaban cada día en su realidad.

De pequeño la miraba en el balcón,
Le gritaba a los ejercitos que no,
Que los moros de las tropas nacionales
No disparen por favor.

Que no tiren por los cerros,
Que no tiren por los cerros,
Ni disparen ni marchiten a la flor,
Ni disparen ni marchiten a la flor.

Yo fui testigo en su vejez
De la tormenta que calló
En los hombros malheridos de una flor,
Una flor,
Una flor,
Una flor,
Una flor,
Una flor.

Cuando niño la miraba en el balcón.
Cuando niño la miraba en el balcón.
Cuando niño la miraba en el balcón.

A Flower

On her face were more hours than on a clock,
She heard nothing of her surroundings,
She only counted
The invisible heroes of the room.

As a child, I watched her on the balcony,
I shouted to the armies not to,
That the bombs of war
Had kidnapped her reason forever.

I witnessed her old age
The storm that fell silent
On the wounded shoulders of a flower,
A flower,
A flower,
A flower.

Her smile was innocent and suddenly
She noticed the absurd to those present
That a relative who had died years ago
Was touching her hand.

I remember the summer mornings,
She combed her four hairs all the time,
Combed and with hairpins she surprised me,
I have never seen such perfection, a flower.

I witnessed her old age
The storm that fell silent
On the wounded shoulders of a flower,
A flower,
A flower,
A flower.

I could tell you a thousand stories about her,
But there are things you don't want to hear,
Because the bombs of war
Were bursting every day in her reality.

As a child, I watched her on the balcony,
I shouted to the armies not to,
That the Moors of the national troops
Please don't shoot.

Don't shoot through the hills,
Don't shoot through the hills,
Don't shoot or wither the flower,
Don't shoot or wither the flower.

I witnessed her old age
The storm that fell silent
On the wounded shoulders of a flower,
A flower,
A flower,
A flower,
A flower,
A flower.

When as a child, I watched her on the balcony.
When as a child, I watched her on the balcony.
When as a child, I watched her on the balcony.