English translation of Siete Crisantemos by Joaquín Sabina. What does Siete Crisantemos mean in english
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HOME > JOAQUíN SABINA > SIETE CRISANTEMOS in ENGLISH
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Siete Crisantemos by Joaquín Sabina (original lyric)



Si alguna vez he dado más de lo que tengo
me han dado algunas veces más de lo que doy,
se me ha olvidado ya el lugar de donde vengo
y puede que no exista el sitio adonde voy.

A las buenas costumbres nunca me he acostumbrado,
del calor de la lumbre del hogar me aburrí.
También en el infierno llueve sobro mojado,
lo sé porque he pasado más de una noche allí.

En busca de las siete llaves del misterio,
siete versos tristes para una canción,
siete crisantemos en el cementerio,
siete negros signos de interrogación.

En tiempos tan oscuros nacen falsos profetas
y mucha golondrinas huyen de la ciudad,
el asesino sabe más de amor que el poeta
y el cielo cada vez está más lejos del mar.

Lo bueno de los años es curan heridas,
lo malo de los besos es que crean adición;
ayer quiso matarme la mujer de mi vida,
apretaba el gatillo... cuando se despertó.

Con siete espinas de la flor del adulterio,
siete carreteras delante de mi;
siete crisantemos en el cementerio,
siete veces no, siete veces si.

[Estribillo]

Me enamoro de todo, me conformo con nada;
un aroma, un abrazo, un pedazo de pan
y lo que buenamente me den por la Balada
de la Vida Privada... de Fulano de Tal.

Siete crisantemos en el cementerio,
siete despedidas en una estación;
siete crisantemos en el cementerio,
siete cardenales en el corazón.

Siete Crisantemos by Joaquín Sabina (english translation)



If I have ever given more than what I have
they have given me a few times more than what I give,
I've forgotten the place where I come from
and there may not be the place where I'm going.

I have never gotten used to good manners,
from the heat of the hearth of the home I got bored.
Also in hell it rains on wet,
I know because I've spent more than one night there.

In search of the seven keys of mystery,
seven sad verses for a song,
seven chrysanthemums in the cemetery,
seven black question marks.

False prophets are born in such dark times
and many swallows flee the city,
the murderer knows more about love than the poet
and the sky is increasingly farther from the sea.

The good thing about the years is healing wounds,
The bad thing about kisses is that they create addition;
yesterday he wanted to kill me the woman of my life,
He pulled the trigger ... when he woke up.

With seven thorns of the flower of adultery,
seven roads in front of me;
seven chrysanthemums in the cemetery,
seven times not, seven times yes.

[Chorus]

I fall in love with everything, I settle for nothing;
an aroma, a hug, a piece of bread
and what they give me for the Ballad
of Private Life ... of Fulano de Tal.

Seven chrysanthemums in the cemetery,
seven farewells at a station;
seven chrysanthemums in the cemetery,
seven cardinals in the heart.




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