Текст и перевод песни Ismael Serrano - El Camino de Regreso

El Camino de Regreso

Hasta entonces nunca me habían aterrado
De esta forma los aeropuertos.
Lléname de abrazos, lléname de besos,
Creo que anunciaron tu vuelo.
Y entre lágrimas tu figura es devorada por la gente,
Y una fiera maloliente clava en mi alma sus afilados dientes.

Sus afilados dientes.

Quedo con el sabor metálico de la soledad
Y deshojo el calendario.
Tengo miedo, tengo frío y dudo,
Y hago repaso.
Fugaz e indeterminado, como un sueño ha comenzado
Esta historia y no sé, en verdad, si fue real.

Quién me iba a decir que te iba a encontrar una noche casual,
Yo ejerciendo de torpe sentimental.
"¿Qué haces aquí? A punto estaba de marcharme,
Qué bueno es encontrarte".

Y tú y yo inmóviles, y en torno a nosotros
Giraban colores, pasaban horas, rostros.

Pasaban horas, rostros.

Pero nada de esto era importante,
"Así que háblame de ti y no pares".
Apenas te dejaba la música con su metralla.
"Cuéntame cómo era todo antes".
Aunque seriamente dudo si en verdad hubo un antes,
Sólo recuerdo bien, con nitidez, que hubo un después.

Entre empujones, entre la gente,
Me acerco torpemente con taquicardia adolescente,
En aquel bar donde no entra ni un rayo de luz,
Sé que fuera, sé que fuera amanece.

Sé que fuera amanece.

Nuevos reencuentros, nuevas confesiones, y de repente me veo
Perdido en un aeropuerto,
Con las pesadillas que día a día me acompañan, cotidianas,
Con las que me atormento:

A qué son bailan tus caderas,
Qué sudores te alimentan, tengo tanto miedo
De que olvides el camino de regreso,
El camino de regreso.

The Road Back

Until then I had never been terrified
In this way at airports.
Fill me with hugs, kiss me,
I think they have announced your flight.
And between tears, your figure is eaten away by the people,
And a stinky beast buries its sharp teeth into my soul.

Its sharp teeth.

I'm left with the metallic flavor of loneliness
And I turn the pages of the calendar.
I'm scared, I'm cold, and I have doubts,
And I go through it again.
Fleeting and uncertain, like a dream, this story has begun
And I don't know, really, if it was true.

Who would have told me that I was going to find you on an ordinary night,
Me playing the fool who's sentimental.
"What are you doing here? I was about to leave,
What a good thing to find you".

And there we were, unmoving, and around us
Colors were spinning, hours were passing, faces.

Hours were passing, faces.

But none of this was important,
"So tell me about yourself and don't stop".
The music barely let you speak with its machine gun fire.
"Tell me how it was before".
Although I seriously doubt if there really was a before,
I only remember clearly, with certainty, that there was an after.

Amidst the pushing, amongst the people,
I go up clumsily with the butterflies of a teenager,
In that bar where not even a ray of light gets in,
I know that outside, I know that outside the sun is rising.

I know that outside the sun is rising.

New reunions, new confessions, and suddenly I see myself
Lost in an airport,
With the nightmares that accompany me every day, common,
With which I torment myself:

What your hips are dancing to,
What nourishment makes you sweat, I'm so scared
That you will forget the road back,
The road back.