La Marea
Vetusta Morla
The Tide
The tide left me silver sands,
which I will put in the clock of time that doesn't pass.
The tide left me flooded islands,
where I can catch with my net a pirate story
Your tide left me cracked skin,
honey on the lips,
legs buried.
The tide left me cracked skin,
honey on the lips,
legs buried.
The tide left me scents of a ship,
seaweed woven in the shape of disappointment.
The tide left me some nameless shells,
with which the child makes a necklace of an alphabet that man doesn't understand.
Your tide left me cracked skin,
honey on the lips,
legs buried.
The tide left me cracked skin,
honey on the lips,
legs buried.
The tide left me frozen crabs,
ice needles and a blank book.
The tide left me erased verses,
the ink, a blot, a wet paper.
Your tide left me cracked skin,
honey on the lips,
legs buried.
The tide left me cracked skin,
honey on the lips,
legs buried.
