Amiga mía [English translation]

My friend, I know you only live for him,

and he knows it too, but he doesn't see you

like I do, begging my mouth that says,

since it has confessed to me between drinks,

that its your skin that I dream of at night,

and it drives me crazy with every button that

you undo, thinking about your hands.

He hasn't seen you tremble, waiting

for a word, some gesture, an embrace.

He doesn't see you like I do, sighing,

with your eyes wide open,

listening to me mentioning it.

Oh, my friend, I know it and he does too.

My friend, I don't know what to say

nor what to do to see you happy.

I wish to God I could manipulate the soul or freedom,

since it's what he's missing,

to fill up your pockets with wars won,

with renewed dreams and hopes.

I want to give you a poem as a gift,

but you think I am giving out your news.

My friend, I hope that one day, listening to my song,

suddenly, you understand that what I never wanted

was to tell your story

because that could in pity.

But, forgive me, my friend,

it's neither intelligence, nor wisdom,

this it's my way of saying things.

Not that it's my job, it's that it's my language.

My friend, princess of an infinite tale,

my friend, so alone that I pretend you're sharing your story with me,

my friend, let's see if one of these days,

I'll finally learn to speak

without having to beat around the bush,

since all this history matters to me

because you are my friend.

My friend, I know you only live for him,

and he knows it too, but he doesn't see you

like I do, begging my mouth that says,

since it has confessed to me between drinks,

that its your skin that I dream of at night...

My friend, I don't know what to say

nor what to do to see you happy.

I wish to God I could manipulate the soul or freedom,

since it's what he's missing,

to fill up your pockets with wars won,

with renewed dreams and hopes.

I want to give you a poem as a gift,

but you think I am giving out your news.

My friend, princess of an infinite tale,

my friend, so alone that I pretend you're sharing your story with me,

my friend, let's see if one of these days,

I'll finally learn to speak

without having to beat around the bush,

since all this history matters to me

because you are my friend.

• Artist:Alejandro Sanz
• Album:Más