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Landmark was even so for not coming back,
the train of the morning already arrives without it,
in a heart with metal soul,
in this gray fog that involves the city
Its bank is empty, Landmark continues inside of me,
I feel it to breathe, I think that continues here,
nor in the distance enormous it can divide
two hearts that beat as one only
Who knows you thinks about me
if to nobody it wants to speak
e if you hide as I
If he hears everything and he goes
to sleep without supper,
if the cushion against you presses fort
e starts to cry
if you do not know how much badly
he will make you the solitude
I see and my daily its photograph
With eyes of short while shy boy,
the squeeze against the chest and me seems that
you are between the English and the mathematics here
Its father and its advice who monotony
because of the work and other bobagens,
he took you stops far without its assent
you of this: One day you will understand
Who knows if you think about me,
with the friends one will meet,
only trying to forget,
the truth is not far from easy,
I do not obtain more to be in lesson
e during the afternoon is worse
I do not have will to study, for you
my thought flies
It is impossible to divide thus, life of us two
therefore, it waits me, my love, it conserves the illusion
Solitude between us two
this silence inside of me,
this inquietude to see to pass the life without its love
Therefore it waits me because,
this cannot happen,
it is impossible to separate the history of us two thus
the solitude?
Louis Enrique
La soledad (en ingles)
La soledad (en ingles)
Landmark was even so for not coming back,
the train of the morning already arrives without it,
in a heart with metal soul,
in this gray fog that involves the city
Its bank is empty, Landmark continues inside of me,
I feel it to breathe, I think that continues here,
nor in the distance enormous it can divide
two hearts that beat as one only
Who knows you thinks about me
if to nobody it wants to speak
e if you hide as I
If he hears everything and he goes
to sleep without supper,
if the cushion against you presses fort
e starts to cry
if you do not know how much badly
he will make you the solitude
I see and my daily its photograph
With eyes of short while shy boy,
the squeeze against the chest and me seems that
you are between the English and the mathematics here
Its father and its advice who monotony
because of the work and other bobagens,
he took you stops far without its assent
you of this: One day you will understand
Who knows if you think about me,
with the friends one will meet,
only trying to forget,
the truth is not far from easy,
I do not obtain more to be in lesson
e during the afternoon is worse
I do not have will to study, for you
my thought flies
It is impossible to divide thus, life of us two
therefore, it waits me, my love, it conserves the illusion
Solitude between us two
this silence inside of me,
this inquietude to see to pass the life without its love
Therefore it waits me because,
this cannot happen,
it is impossible to separate the history of us two thus
the solitude?
