Amor- Love

Hello, I know it’s been forever but it is finally summer and I want to go back to writing. I will try to show some commitment. We could say I had some love issues recently and so I was writing about it. Here is what I wrote (it’s in Spanish but if you don’t understand it, I will make an effort and attempt to translate it below for you):

“Vivimos por amor. Es el amor el sentimiento que mueve a la humanidad, el que nos hace perseguir las olas del mar en verano y donde nos refugiamos cuando hace frío en invierno. Pero el amor solo lo podemos describir como cálido, rojo y apasionado. Es inevitable e inelegible y cuestión de azar si te sacará una sonrisa a media noche o si hará que caigan lágrimas en tu almohada.

La brisa fresquita que acaricia tu rostro en primavera y el viento que te bofetea la cara en otoño; no existe brisa sin viento, ni viento sin brisa. En otoño el fuerte viento te seca los ojos y los árboles pierden sus hojas. Las hojas caen a la vez que lo hacen tus lágrimas. Parece mentira que todavía recuerdes la primavera; el olor de una flor y su florecer. La anhelas pero el curso de la vida es el que es, nunca habrá una nueva primavera sin antes haber un demoledor otoño.

Tan fino y tan fuerte como el viento. Arranca troncos, pone la piel de gallina, pasea emociones. Se va y viene, y ahí abajo estamos nosotros, como pequeños soldaditos de plomo esclavos del amor. El amor nos viene grande siempre, nunca podemos forzarlo o evitarlo.

Es natural como las mismas estaciones y mueve a los pequeños soldaditos de abajo, que ilusos buscan la luz de la vida y el sentimiento que la provoca. A pesar de que algunos caen en otoño e invierno, esperan con ansia el verano y la primavera, como si fuesen los primeros rayos de luz o las primeras flores.

¿Cómo podemos vivir por algo que nos mata?- me pregunto-. ¿Y qué es la vida sin algo de muerte en ella?-me respondo-. El amor es la emoción de los soldaditos, y qué mejor que morir con vida…”

TRANSLATION:

“We live for love. it is love the feeling that moves humanity, the one feeling that makes us chase ocean waves in the summer and where we find shelter when it’s cold in winter. But we can only describe love as warm, red and passionate. It is inevitable and not choosable and a question of chance whether it will draw a smile on your face at midnight or make tears fall on your pillow.

The fresh breeze that caresses your face in spring and the wind that buffets your face in autumn; wind cannot exist without a breeze and a breeze cannot exist without wind. During autumn, a strong wind dries your eyes out and trees lose their leaves. Leaves fall as your tears do. It is almost funny how you still remember spring; the smell of a flower and its growing up. You miss it but the course of life is the course of life; there will never be a new spring without there having been a demolishing autumn before.

As fine yet as strong as the wind. It pulls of tree trunks, gives goose bumps, walks emotions. It comes and it goes, and underneath there we are, like small tin soldiers, slaves of love. Love is always bigger than us, we can never force it or avoid it.

It is natural just like seasons and it moves the small soldiers underneath, who naively search for light in life and the feeling that causes it. Although some fall during autumn and winter, they look forward to summer and spring, as if they were the first sun rays or the first flowers.

How can we live for something that kills us?- I ask myself-. And what is life without some death in it?- I instantly reply-. Love is the emotion of the soldier, and there is nothing better than dying lively.”

I attempted to translate this but it was kind of hard because of idioms, expressions, etc. Please tell me what you think. I’m open to your thoughts, and they’re always great to hear!

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