English translation of Mis viejos amores by Víctor Heredia. What does Mis viejos amores mean in english
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Besides the lyric of the song Mis viejos amores in english, you will also find Mis viejos amores translated into Portuguese, French, German or other languages.
Besides the lyric of the song Mis viejos amores in english, you will also find Mis viejos amores translated into Portuguese, French, German or other languages.
Mis viejos amores by Víctor Heredia (original lyric)
Mis viejos amores
Mis amores han pasado
como flores que el viento ha cortado
y han quedado, entre oscuras distancias,
unos vivos y otros olvidados.
Mariposas de colores,
han dejado grabadas mil cosas
y he guardado en mi diario de tonto
cosas feas y cosas hermosas.
Mis amores, mis amores,
son retazos de viejas batallas,
barquichuelos de velas heridas
navegando las aguas del alma.
Mis amores, mis amores,
pajaritos buscando su nido,
frescas aguas en mi impertinencia,
hace tiempo que los he perdido.
No me ufano ni envanezco
por las cosas que el amor me ha dado
y hoy se han ido para siempre
por las sombras del río pasado.
Mariposas de colores
han dejado grabadas mil cosas
y he guardado en mi diario de tonto
cosas feas y cosas hermosas.
Mis amores, mis amores,
son retazos de viejas batallas,
barquichuelos de velas heridas
navegando las aguas del alma.
Mis viejos amores by Víctor Heredia (english translation)
My old loves
My loves have passed
like flowers that the wind has cut
and they have been, between dark distances,
some alive and others forgotten.
Colorful butterflies,
they have left a thousand things recorded
and I kept it in my fool's diary
Ugly things and beautiful things.
My loves, my loves,
they are remnants of old battles,
little boats of wounded candles
navigating the waters of the soul.
My loves, my loves,
little birds looking for their nest,
fresh waters in my impertinence,
I've lost them for a long time.
I do not cheat or I do not make myself proud
for the things that love has given me
and today they are gone forever
by the shadows of the last river.
Colorful butterflies
they have left a thousand things recorded
and I kept it in my fool's diary
Ugly things and beautiful things.
My loves, my loves,
they are remnants of old battles,
little boats of wounded candles
navigating the waters of the soul.
Only among all we can make this a better place :)
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