Prendi La Flor

I took the fleur-de-lis in your hair.
I took the fleur-de-lis feeling
that time was slipping away from me.
In your serious, fierce kisses,
I took the flower and in my fingers
I felt everything withering,
that everything is slipping away from us.
Like the slow wheat fields,
slowly towards oblivion.
Slowly, irremediably.
Time hasn't passed since you left.
There are no months or years on the calendar.
I am like the upturned tree
that never finishes drying up.
A sweet and gritty tango,
as sweet as molasses
I want, my love, to write to you.
Perhaps to remind you
that love is only surrender
and that sometimes, gold is
what shines next to you.
I took the fleur-de-lis in your hair,
I took the fleur-de-lis feeling
that time was slipping away from me.
A quarrelsome and sad tango
I would like to write you love.
Like a night of revelry,
like a dawn
in a strange bed.
Tango of distance,
of one-sided love.
What I felt with you
I will never feel in other arms.
I took the fleur-de-lis in your hair.
I took the fleur-de-lis feeling
that time was slipping away from me.