Todos Vuelven

Everyone returns to the land where they were born
To the incomparable charm of its Sun
Everyone returns to the corner where they lived
Where perhaps more than one love flourished

Under the solitary tree of the past
How many times do we start to dream
Everyone returns on the path of memory
But the time of love never returns

The air that brings in its hands
The flower of the past, its aroma of yesterday
Whispers softly in our ear
Its learned song from the evening
It tells us with a mysterious voice
Of tuberose and rose
Of Moon and honey
That the love of the earth is great
That the absence is sad
That the past leaves