Flores de Trebol

I didn’t come to see myself in your mirrors, nor to bow down at your feet
Nor to sing to the thief of dreams, he never knows who he is

Who, who steals clover flowers, of course, of course he cries in solitude!
You, you who’ve seen him lurking from afar, you won’t be able to forget

I might walk by your side, without you noticing maybe
I’m not your shadow nor your past, do what you gotta do

There are stars without a moon that some don’t usually see
I only find fortune in the soul of a people
That never forgets to dream

My people smell like coffee
Like fresh blood, poem and helm
Chiseling the old doors of a cemetery
Rise up, my people!
Don’t give up or live anymore, or live anymore off your dead

Attention, pay attention!
Before heading to the dark side of the moon
Like a timeless story
Let there be no doubt
Not everything is as we see it
Just pay attention

There are stars without a moon that some don’t usually see
I only find fortune in the soul of a people
That never forgets to dream

My people smell like coffee
Like fresh blood, poem and helm
I find it everywhere, sometimes sad, tired, and slow
This is how my people are seen, with their cries and in silence
Chiseling the old doors of a cemetery

Rise up, my people!
Don’t give up, or live anymore, or live anymore off your dead
Attention… Pay attention!