El Hombre Es Un Continente

Man is a continent
Where life passes by
Divine skin scrap
That is transformed into a species

Man is a continent
That covers many ideas
Stream of thought
That is transformed into wood

And the truth
What are we looking for?
It is slipping through our fingers
And from your chest the sun rises

Man is not an island
Where desire shipwrecks
It is fire in the firmament
Impulse of drizzle

Man is a rarity
In the heart of the cosmos
Mysteries written in the bones
The eternity of your eyes

Dance to the beat
The dance of the roads
Dance, dance, time dances, a single destiny
And from his chest the Sun rises

And the truth is that we are looking for so much
Slowly drips under your lips
And from your chest the sun rises
The sun rises

For both of us
For both of us
For both of us
For both of us