Viejas Alegrías

Silent night, cruel night...
Memories come rushing in.
Tragic sadness thinking about how I show
"The first gray hair" messenger of pain.
Mysterious anguish of living
And intense terror of dying.
From a confusing mirror, rising from the past
All my adventures like a new dawn.

It's my old joys
That rise up and call my name.
How many, how many of my hours
Are coming out of the shadows!
It's my old joys...
They're the lips that I've kissed.
They're scents from other days,
They're dark images
From the evocative mirror.

I had a new love at every moment
I became a graduate in pain.
Nostalgic bird, my mocking spirit
Always took flight seeking an emotion.
I went from the stream "to the rosebush",
Free as the wind, and in the end,
Today, as I cross the stormy cape of my age
I've found myself trapped in my own solitude.