| I give you the freedom that you want so much,
|
| I left the cage open for you to run away.
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| Don't go thinking that you hurt me like that
|
| That here in my heart there are no things of yours.
|
| Perhaps a vague fear of pity
|
| He made me hand over your two keys
|
| But I know that these kind of emotions
|
| They do not disturb the peace of certain birds.
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| I will not follow your poisoned flight,
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| I will not spy on the directions where you go,
|
| I hope however that your dice
|
| They make you die far from my beach.
|
| Goodbye, dear mistaken love,
|
| Thank you for these years that you have lived,
|
| This wine so rough and bitter,
|
| It is the memory of others already drunk.
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| I don't know why you thought that by my side
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| I turned you into a prisoner pigeon.
|
| I have never put a fence in the inhabited
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| I didn't even turn my pigeonhole into a cage.
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| I don't have four whips or ties,
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| Nor less stockades or tranqueras.
|
| You had in me the shadow of other arms
|
| That once tied your chimeras.
|
| Goodbye, dear mistaken love,
|
| Thank you for these years that you have lived
|
| This wine so rough and bitter,
|
| And in the taste of others already drunk. |