You killed her heart
but the roses bloom as on a grave smothered in flowers.
My darling, it is an art
to turn from the sun sunflowers.

When something is killed
it doesn't mean it dies
but, au contraire, life hastens its flow.
When you see tears falling from their eyes
it proves how hard it is to hold back their throes.

I want you to know that as long as there's pain
the heart may ache but it stays alive.
In all these troubles there is you to blame,
after all, this heart is mine.