Me es imposible escribirte lo que quiero decirte,
es probable que las palabras ya hayan perdido su poder,
y ahora toda esa pasión, todo ese amor, solo lo muestra mi piel...
y cuando reaccionan mis ojos, los tuyos me dan café.
Princesa, amada, cerezo de primavera ...
eres tú, la palabra con más significado.
Eres tú, el beso con más sabor.
Eres tú, el momento perfecto, el tiempo de Dios.
¡Eres tú, un ser completo!
Y te lo vuelvo a repetir en poemas,
en frases repentinas;
en alguna lágrima, cuando me respondes de manera poética.
Que eres, mi palabra, mi verso, mi poema, mi momento favorito.
¡Eres tú, un ramo de muérdago, un mar infinito!
Y repito, no hay forma ... no hay fórmula.
Para describirte, descifrar, cuantificar todo.
Todo lo que viene de ti, algo infinito, algo sin numerología;
algo que ni la poesía ... ni la cosa más hermosa, podria igualar.
¡Eres tú, una princesa de amor secreto!
Y me estoy quedando sin palabras, y el español tiene muchas más de las que pensaba...
Pero ninguno tiene lo que un poco de ti contiene tus besos.
Entonces, me he rendido a tus pies, he caído en tus manos y tienes más que abrazos de mi parte.
Pero, siempre intentaré definirte como mujer, con la poesía no me impacientaré.
¡Aunque seas tú, ser indescifrable!
Y te lo he dicho, que no puedo parar...
hasta que encuentro ese poema, esa rima, esa idea...
Eso me permite combinar todos los poemas, en un solo poema.
En uno que contiene... aunque sea un poco...
de tu alma perfecta.
It is impossible for me to write you what I want to tell you,
Words have probably already lost their power
and now all that passion, all that love, only my skin shows ...
And when my eyes react, yours give me coffee.
Princess, beloved, spring cherry ...
it's you, the word with the most meaning
It's you, the kiss with the most flavor.
It is you, the perfect moment, God's time.
It is you, a complete being!
And I repeat it to you again in poems,
in sudden phrases;
in some tear, when you answer me in a poetic way.
What are you, my word, my verse, my poem, my favorite moment.
It is you, a bouquet of mistletoe, an infinite sea!
And I repeat, there is no way ... there is no formula.
To describe you, to decipher, to quantify everything.
Everything that comes from you, something infinite, something without numerology;
something that neither poetry ... nor the most beautiful thing, could match.
It's you, a secret love princess!
And I'm running out of words, and Spanish has many more than I thought ...
But none of them have what a little of you contains your kisses.
So, I have surrendered at your feet, I have fallen into your hands and you have more than hugs from me.
But, I will always try to define you as a woman, with poetry I will not get impatient.
Even if it is you, be indecipherable!
And I told you, that I can't stop ...
until I find that poem, that rhyme, that idea ...
That allows me to combine all the poems, in a single poem.
In one that contains ... even a little ...
of your perfect soul.
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