This afternoon it's raining like never before,
And I no longer feel like living, my love
This afternoon is sweet.
Why shouldn't it be?
It is dressed in grace and pain.
It is dressed as woman
This afternoon in Lima it's raining. And I remember
The cruel caverns of my ingratitude
A block of ice above your poppy flower
Stronger than your "don't be like that!"
My violent black blooms
And the savage stone, and frozen distances.
And your silent dignity
Will put an end with burning oils
That's why this afternoon, I go
With this owl, with this heart
And others come by and see me so sad
And they drink a little bit of you
In the abrupt wrinkling of my deep pain
This afternoon it's raining, it rains so much
And I don't want to live, my love!