:: Ismael Serrano ::

Ana, life is so short,
with so many farewells
full of empty promises.

Ana, what will become of us
when we fall and others
take our place?

Ana, where will the battle take place
in which we will lose
the war against loneliness?

Ana, you will hear again
the rocks that against your window
happiness threw.

Happiness threw.

Ana, life is so short,
I might become a lie
and not recognize you tomorrow.

Ana, when I reject your embrace
remember then the year
in which we forged peace.

Ana, I might leave and never return,
I might die so you wouldn't have
to curse me anymore.

Ana, I see you and declare myself guilty
of longing for your presence
more than wishing for peace.

Ana, what do I do with my songs,
with this bouquet of frost,
with my urge to kill?

Ana, what do I do with the mountains
of paper I've signed
swearing to love or to die?

Swearing to love or to die.

Ana.