I'm standing on the roof, it's blowing, it´s raining
I'm standing on the roof, it's blowing, it's raining,
the fields of genius are not overcrowded.
Nice weather for you all, buenos aires,
the horse's ears bend backward,
a harbinger of storm.
The brain goes fast, starts to ring,
war music for friends of romance.
Wine was poured into the manger, Maria of My Heart,
and on top of it all, we sang
the flight of a divine hoof.
You wished for some wind for yourself,
only a little rain, you want to press a pillow
on top of the nights, just to fall asleep in the dark.
But your heart has stopped, you
have been sleeping for many years,
behind you, the black charger of storm,
his wings entirely white.