Al Final, Corazón

In the end, buddy heart, we are left alone.
If she left, we are left to remember what happened.
In the end, buddy heart, I no longer cry for her.
If also, my final tear took her away.

And I remember that I learned to love her and call her mine
and fill her nights and live her days,
and read her verses from new poets,
and explain simple things about love to her.

I told her that the world died with both of us,
because the whole world belonged to both of us,
but since she left, she never believed it.

Heart that beats, heart that cries,
heart that suffers, heart that pleads,
heart that knows that when dawn comes,
the night will die, will die with it.

Tired heart, wounded heart,
that no matter how much it searches, it will not have its nest.
Heart that moans because it has been lost
far from its side, far from its skin.

And I learned to love her and call her mine
and fill her nights and live her days,
and read her verses from new poets,
and explain simple things about love to her.

I told her that the world died with both of us,
because the whole world belonged to both of us,
but since she left, she never believed it.

Heart that beats, heart that cries,
heart that suffers, heart that pleads,
heart that knows that when dawn comes,
the night will die, will die with it.

Tired heart, wounded heart,
that no matter how much it searches, it will not have its nest.
Heart that moans because it has been lost
far from its side, far from its skin.

And in the end, buddy heart, what good is it
to remember if I can't make her come back to me.
And in the end, buddy heart, we are left alone.
It's better, better for both of us, to die, to die like this.
Simply die like this.