Lyrics of Quiero Aprender De Memoria - Leonardo Favio

Quiero Aprender De Memoria (original)

Quiero aprender de memoria
Con mi boca, tu cuerpo muchacha de abril
Y recorrer tus entrañas
En busca del hijo que no ha de venir;
Quiero partir con mi canto
Tu cuerpo de niña y hundirme a vivir
Nada me importa la gente
Que opina y se mete, no me han de entender
Como explicar que te quiero
Que me sonrio y muero al verte pasar
Como explicar que te amo
Si no fuiste mía, ni lo serás jamás
Como explicar que me duele
Hasta el aire que juega en tu pelo y tu andar
Viva si escuchas mí canto
Sabrás que es el llanto que lloro por vos
Poco me importa la gente
Que opina y se mete, no comprenderán
Ay si pudiera en tu pecho
Tener el sosiego y encontrar la paz
Y acariciando tu pelo
Encontrar el sueño que no puedo hallar;
Ay si tu boca me diera
Callada la forma del amor de amar
Encontraría un motivo
Para seguir viviendo, de poder luchar
Quiero aprender de memoria
Con mi boca, tu cuerpo muchacha de abril
Y recorrer tus entrañas
En busca del hijo que no ha de venir

(translation)

I want to learn by heart
With my mouth, your body April girl
And go through your entrails
In search of the son who is not to come;
I want to leave with my song
Your body as a girl and sink to live
I don't care about people
What do you think and get involved, they should not understand me
How to explain that I love you
That I smile and die when I see you pass
How to explain that I love you
If you weren't mine, you never will be
How to explain that it hurts
Even the air that plays in your hair and your walk
Long live if you listen to me sing
You will know that it is the cry that I cry for you
I don't care about people
What do you think and get involved, they will not understand
Oh if I could in your chest
Be calm and find peace
And caressing your hair
Find the dream I can't find;
Oh if your mouth gave me
Quiet the form of love to love
I would find a reason
To continue living, to be able to fight
I want to learn by heart
With my mouth, your body April girl
And go through your entrails
In search of the son who is not to come