It rains
Behind the glass, it rains and it rains
On the half-leafed poplars
On the brown roofs
On the fields, it rains
They painted gray the sky
And the ground
He was covering himself with leaves
He was dressing as autumn
The afternoon that falls asleep
It seems
A child that the wind rocks
With his ballad in autumn
A ballad in autumn
A sad song of melancholy
That It is born when the day dies
A ballad in autumn
Sometimes like a murmur
And sometimes like a lament
And sometimes wind
It rains
Behind the glass, it rains and it rains
On the half-leafed poplars
On the brown roofs
On the fields, it rains
It will kill you To tell
That it is burning
My last log in the home
That I am very poor today
That I give for a smile
All that I am
Because I am alone
And I am afraid
If you were capable
To see the sad eyes of a lamp and speak
With that porcelain that I discovered yesterday
And that for a moment has become a woman
Then, forgetting
My tomorrow and your past
You would return to my side
The afternoon goes away and leaves me
The complaint
That tomorrow will be old
Of a ballad in autumn
It rains
Behind the glass, it rains and it rains
On the half-leafed poplars
Videos by Joan Manuel Serrat

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