English translation of Paso del Rey by Víctor Heredia. What does Paso del Rey mean in english
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Paso del Rey and many other song lyrics of Víctor Heredia translated into english can be found in Translate Lyrics! What does Paso del Rey mean in english?
Besides the lyric of the song Paso del Rey in english, you will also find Paso del Rey translated into Portuguese, French, German or other languages.
Besides the lyric of the song Paso del Rey in english, you will also find Paso del Rey translated into Portuguese, French, German or other languages.
Paso del Rey by Víctor Heredia (original lyric)
Paso del Rey
Es un horizonte verde,
de arboledas que se pierden bajo el cielo azul.
Mientras pintan la mañana,
dos torcazas que se aman y descubres tú.
Un perfume a sol y a menta,
y casi sin darte cuenta te descalzas, y el rocío
te acaricia como un niño.
Aquel que fui paladeando miel,
cuando era feliz en Paso del rey.
Sobre tus tejados rojos, se deshacen los despojos de mi juventud.
Cielo de mi primavera,
cantarillo que aún esperas, truco, escoba y mus.
Vuelvo juventud temprana,
a tus grillos y a tus ranas, al amigo más querido,
al adolescente herido.
Aquel que fui, desvelándome,
por una mujer en Paso del Rey.
Quiero ver crecer el cardo,
rama a rama sobre el barro hasta abrirse en flor.
Y a horcajadas sobre un pino,
ver el fondo del camino y olvidar quién soy.
Aunque sea por un momento,
sólo por beber el viento, remontar el puente, el río,
ser la piel de lo que he sido.
Aquel que fui paladeando miel,
cuando era feliz en Paso del Rey.
Paso del Rey by Víctor Heredia (english translation)
Paso del Rey
It's a green horizon,
of groves that get lost under the blue sky.
While they paint the morning,
two towers that love each other and discover you.
A perfume of sun and mint,
and almost without realizing you are barefoot, and the dew
he caresses you like a child.
The one who was tasting honey,
when I was happy in Paso del rey.
On your red roofs, the remains of my youth are undone.
Heaven of my spring,
cantarillo that you still expect, trick, broom and mus.
I return early youth,
to your crickets and your frogs, to the dearest friend,
the injured teenager.
The one that went, revealing me,
for a woman in Paso del Rey.
I want to see the thistle grow,
Branch to branch on the mud until it opens in bloom.
And astride a pine,
see the bottom of the road and forget who I am.
Even for a moment,
just by drinking the wind, going up the bridge, the river,
be the skin of what I have been.
The one who was tasting honey,
when I was happy in Paso del Rey.
Only among all we can make this a better place :)
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