If I could only tell

IF I COULD ONLY TELL
by Manuel Buen Abad (2014)

If I could only tell

That my day is not complete ‘til I’ve seen your smile
That the good is not enough if I haven’t hear your voice
and laughed with you and looked at you
and imagined worlds of unspoken joy.

If I could only tell

That the things I cannot say should better stay unsaid
That the tears I haven’t cried are the worst I’ve ever felt
and the music that I played and the paintings that I made
and the kisses that I gave are just floating in the air.

If I could only tell

That your hands’ gentle touch and the caress of your lips
and that jolly, playful swaying of your feet and of your hips
when you’re walking besides me, that is all of what I wish,
more than anything, more than God, more than Him.

But my dear, it cannot be.

‘Cause my love’s unspoken love
and my tears are unshed tears
and my words are contained air.

O, my love, it cannot be;

although I wish, O God, at least
that I knew you already knew
so that I don’t have to tell.

Por alguna razón

POR ALGUNA RAZÓN
by Manuel Buen Abad (2014)

Por alguna razón que no alcanzo a comprender de entre todas las mujeres que mis ojos han de ver es aquella que se oculta la que en más deseos resulta y aunque apenas y la toco mi corazón brinca rabioso y la visión de su cuello que se asoma por el velo es más pura y es más casta de lo que realmente hace falta; a pesar de todo ello, si he de ser sincero, nada más yo quiero que plantarle un beso fiero.