Ana Belen — Muerto De Amor song lyrics and translation
The page contains the lyrics and English translation of the song "Muerto De Amor" by Ana Belen.
Lyrics
Qué es aquello que reluce
Por los altos corredores
Cierra la puerta hijo mío
Acaban de dar las once
En mis ojos sin querer
Relumbran cuatro faroles
Será que la gente aquella
Estará fregando el cobre
Siete gritos, siete sangres
Siete adormideras dobles
Quebraron opacas Lunas
En los oscuros salones
Lleno de manos cortadas
Y coronitas de flores
El mar de los juramentos
Resonaba no sé donde
Brisas de caña mojada
Y rumor de viejas voces
Resonaban por el arco
Roto de la media noche
Bueyes y rosas dormían
Solo por los corredores
Las cuatro luces clamaban
Con el furor de San Jorge
Ajo de agónica plata
La Luna menguante pone
Caballeras amarillas
A las amarillas torres
La noche llama temblando
Al cristal de los balcones
Perseguida por los mil
Perros que no la conocen
Y un olor de vino y ámbar
Viene de los corredores
Madre, cuando yo me muera
Que se enteren los señores
Pon telegramas azules
Que vayan del Sur al Norte
Tristes mujeres del valle
Bajaban su sangre de hombre
Tranquila de flor cortada
Y amarga de muslo joven
Viejas mujeres del río
Lloraban al pie del monte
Un minuto intransitable
De caballeras y nombres
Fachadas de cal ponían
Cuadrada y blanca la noche
Serafines y gitanos
Tocaban acordeones
Y el cielo daba portazos
Al brusco rumor del bosque
Mientras clamaban las luces
En los altos corredores
Lyrics translation
What is that which shines
By the High runners
Close the door, my son.
They just gave Eleven O'clock.
In my eyes unintentionally
Four lanterns shine
Will those people
He'll be scrubbing the copper.
Seven screams, seven bleeds
Seven double poppies
Broken opaque moons
In the dark halls
Full of severed hands
And flower wreaths
The sea of oaths
It resonated I don't know where
Wet cane breezes
And rumour of old voices
They resounded from the arch
Broken midnight
Oxen and roses slept
Just for the runners
The four lights cried
With the fury of St. George
Garlic of agonica silver
The waning moon sets
Yellow Knights
To the yellow towers
The night calls trembling
To the glass of the balconies
Chased by the thousand
Dogs that don't know her
And a smell of wine and Amber
It comes from the runners
Mother, when I die
Let the gentlemen know
Put blue telegrams
Go from South to North
Sad women of the Valley
They lowered their man's blood
Quiet cut flower
And bitter young thigh
Old women of the river
They cried at the foot of the mountain
An impassable minute
Of knights and names
Lime facades laid
Square and white at night
Seraphim and Gypsies
They played accordions
And the sky slammed doors
To the sudden rumor of the forest
As the lights cried
In the high corridors