Mojama - Marea

No corrais tanto, la estn peinando

Y por favor no la molesten,

Que despus todas sus pestes pago yo,

— que no seas tan macarra, que te bajes de la parra

Y anda, estate a lo que estamos que solo estamos los dos,

Mirada a duelo, menea el pelo y un temblor deja chorreando

Sbanas, colcha, somier, alma y colchn,

No me dejes que te quiera,

Que yo por querer quisiera estar pa siempre a tu vera,

Que lo tengo…

Ms negro que el tizn, ms duro que el copn,

Ms tieso que un tabln se me pone el corazn…

Cada vez que dices no,

Tu odio y el mo estn metiendo en un rincn,

-qu ha sucedido?

— ha sido cupido que est hecho un cabrn.

Vamos, dime que se pierden en mi tus acays verdes,

Aunque casi mejor no, porque lo tengo…

Ms negro que el tizn, ms duro que el copn,

Ms tieso que un tabln se me pone el corazn…

Cada vez que dices no,

Y el sol decrece y fallece entre los visillos del cuarto,

Porque tiene celitos de m, de cmo te quiero,

De cmo lo aparto,

Si el sueo es correr por un otoo deshojao,

Morir?, tal vez… mejor que vivir desolao,

Y la vida sigue, yo escribo coplillas de amor

Que le impidan al alma deciros que no, mientras salga…

…serrn del corazn

Don't run so much, they are combing her

And please don't bother her,

That after all the plagues of her I pay,

— don't be so badass, get off the vine

And come on, be at what we are because it's just the two of us,

A look of mourning, she shakes her hair and a tremor leaves her dripping

Sheets, bedspread, bed base, soul and mattress,

Don't let me love you

That I want to be always by your side,

I have it...

Blacker than the chalk, harder than the copn,

Stiffer than a plank my heart becomes...

Every time you say no

Your hate and mine are getting into a corner,

-what has happened?

—It was Cupid who is a bastard.

Come on, tell me what your green acays get lost in me,

Although almost better not, because I have it...

Blacker than the chalk, harder than the copn,

Stiffer than a plank my heart becomes...

Every time you say no

And the sun decreases and dies between the curtains of the room,

Because he's jealous of me, of how I love you,

Of how I separate it,

If the dream is to run through a leafless autumn,

To die?, perhaps... better than living desolate,

And life goes on, I write couplets of love

That they prevent the soul from telling you no, while it comes out...

… sawn from the heart