Текст и перевод песни Ñu - Entrega Romántica

Entrega Romántica

Nace un nuevo día
De llanto, lluvia y tortura,
Pero él lo considera parte de su suerte,
No reniega más haberse equivocado
Nadie le obligó a entregarse tanto.

Cuando llega la noche
Y no están juntos,
Maldice la vida y su talento.
Pero él nunca creyó que la vida tiene final feliz
Y en la noche el miedo está
Sólo por siempre, por siempre.

Guardando en un museo su entrega romántica,
Como llave del fracaso,
Fuera del tiempo,
Y la ternura esclavizante que le diera amor
Conseguiría consolar su miedo.

Instalado en el dolor, como lengua en la llaga,
Te has quedado sólo en la ruina de ti mismo
Los recuerdos de noche de amor
Al amparo de una botella.

Dos epitafios sobre la misma lápida,
Como amantes de leyenda, retorcida y cruel
Un día cualquiera, cuando el sol se esconde
Casi entre la niebla
Se les puede ver en un dulce atardecer.

Guardando en un museo su entrega romántica,
Viviendo en un pasado de pólvora y hielo,
Ni la ternura esclavizante que le diera amor,
Conseguiría consolar en la noche su miedo.

Guardando en un museo su entrega romántica,
Yo sólo fui testigo de su pasión,
De su mala suerte, de su mala vida, de su perdición,
Del mundo que formaban,
De su amor, sólo su amor.

Romantic Surrender

A new day is born
Of crying, rain, and torment,
But he considers it part of his luck,
He no longer denies having made a mistake,
No one forced him to give himself away that much.

When the night comes
And they're not together,
He curses life and his talent.
But he never believed that life has a happy ending
And at night, fear is there,
Only forever, and ever.

Keeping his romantic surrender in a museum,
As the key to failure,
Out of time,
And the enslaving tenderness that gave him love
Would manage to console his fear.

Settled in pain, like a tongue on a sore,
You've been left alone in the ruin of yourself
Memories of a night of love
Under the shelter of a bottle.

Two epitaphs on the same tombstone,
Like lovers of legend, twisted and cruel.
One random day, when the sun is setting
Almost in the fog
You can see them in a sweet dusk.

Keeping his romantic surrender in a museum,
Living in a past of gunpowder and ice,
Not even the enslaving tenderness that gave him love,
Would manage to console his fear at night.

Keeping his romantic surrender in a museum,
I was only a witness to his passion,
Of his bad luck, of his bad life, of his perdition,
Of the world they formed,
Of their love, only their love.