Текст и перевод песни Shinoflow - Abrazos de Cristal

Abrazos de Cristal

Tantos años, tenia que vivir estaba escrito en su destino.
Cosas que siempre ocurren a la gente pero a ti no
Y nunca importan demasiado hasta que ocurren,
Los problemas de los demás serán temas que te aburren.
Que escurren, esa ultima gota que se agota con las horas
Esa mota en la mirada que te entra cuando lloras
Porque añoras no valoras lo que tienes
Hasta que lo pierdes y no vuelve, ya me entiendes.
Por eso dime ahora que me tienes que me quieres,
Le dijo la madre al hijo en un abrazo de romperse,
Si fueran de cristal en mil pedazos pequeñitos
Tantos años. Tenía que vivir, estaba escrito.
Pero padre, cansado del amor de una mujer ama de casa y sin vestidos
Se olvido de aquellos ojos y momentos compartidos,
Asqueao de aquellos niños, y los gritos de rutina derretido por el ruido del pesado conformismo,
Si, buscó su sitio entre fracaso y alcoholismo entre si mismo y pesimismo
Y mil movida estando en paro, barcos... buscaban ese puerto,
Pero ya muerto estaba el faro.

Como esa luna que, sobrevive al día en esta aldea,
Que pasea presumida pa que algún chalao la vea
Fuera de su sitio así es como se sentía ella,
Sin su fondo azul marino y sin el brillo de su estrella...
Aquella tarde, se acostó antes que de costumbre,
No escuchó el teléfono ni el timbre
Soñaba con ser libre y con tener un corazón pa que le roben,
Soñaba que no crecía y para siempre seria joven.
50ypico inviernos, llenos de hojas secas...
Y sus 25 pecas resumidas en un sueño si... del que nunca despertara,
Por mas gallos que cantaran la tristeza le abrazaba.
Y el hijo que lloraba como tu si me pasara
Antonio o Sara, culpables de que yo este vivo y de que escriba lo que escribo
De que siempre yo les quiera, como siempre yo he querido.
Como siempre yo he querido, como siempre yo he querido.
Como siempre yo he querido, como siempre yo he querido.
Como siempre yo he querido, como siempre yo he querido.

Embrace of Glass

So many years, I had to live it was written in my destiny.
Things that always happen to people but not to you
And they never matter too much until they happen,
The problems of others will be topics that bore you.
That drain, that last drop that runs out with the hours
That speck in the gaze that comes into you when you cry
Because you long you do not value what you have
Until you lose it and it does not come back, you know me well.
So tell me now that you have me that you love me,
The mother said to the son in a hug of breaking,
If they were made of crystal in a thousand tiny pieces
So many years. I had to live, it was written.
But Father, tired of the love of a woman housewife and without clothes
Forgot about those eyes and shared moments,
Disgusted by those children, and the cries of melted routine by the noise of heavy conformity,
Yes, he looked for his place between failure and alcoholism between himself and pessimism
And a thousand moves being unemployed, ships... were looking for that port,
But the lighthouse was already dead.

Like that moon that survives the day in this village,
That strolls presumptuous so that some madman sees it
Out of place, that's how she felt,
Without its deep blue background and without the shine of its star...
That afternoon, she went to bed earlier than usual,
She did not hear the telephone or the doorbell
She dreamed of being free and of having a heart for them to steal,
She dreamed that she did not grow up and would always be young.
50 and-odd winters, full of dry leaves...
And her 25 freckles summed up in a dream if... from which she would never wake up,
No matter how many roosters crowed, sadness embraced her.
And the son who cried as you if it happened to me
Antonio or Sara, guilty of my being alive and of my writing what I write
Of me always loving them, as I have always loved.
As I have always loved, as I have always loved.
As I have always loved, as I have always loved.
As I have always loved, as I have always loved.