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Thread: Juan Luis Guerra - La Hormiguita

  1. #1
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    Thumbs up Juan Luis Guerra - La Hormiguita

    La conocí una tarde
    con su guitarra cazaba boleros.
    Tenía puesto un jean,
    y una rosita amarilla en el pelo.

    ¿Qué vas a hacer?
    Me preguntó sonriendo.
    "Lo que tú quieras", respondí;
    fuimos al mar y mojamos los sueños.

    Guiñé mis ojos, y un delfín
    pintó una ola rizada en su pecho.

    Luego reí, y rompimos el hielo;
    nos mordimos los dedos
    como viola en un solo de cello.

    Eres como una hormiguita
    que me besa y me pica,
    que recorre mi espalda
    y se acuesta en mi barba
    a estudiar geografía.

    Eres como un trapecista
    que atraviesa mi lengua;
    y tu circo de flores
    me carga y me suelta
    perdiendo la cuenta,
    perdiendo la cuenta,
    eres.

    Y tuve ganas de llorar,
    pero tan solo en mi ojo derecho.
    Ella hablaba de la luna y de Chopin,
    y yo tocaba el Preludio de un Beso.

    Luego reí, y rompimos el hielo;
    nos mordimos los dedos
    como viola en un solo de cello.

    Eres como una hormiguita
    que me besa y me pica,
    que recorre mi espalda
    y se acuesta en mi barba
    a estudiar geografía.

    Eres como un trapecista
    que atraviesa mi lengua;
    y tu circo de flores
    me carga y me suelta
    perdiendo la cuenta,
    perdiendo la cuenta,
    eres.
    Last edited by asasas; 09-25-2010 at 04:54 PM.

  2. #2
    Senior Member Erito's Avatar
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    I meet her an afternoon
    With her guitar was chasing boleros
    She was wearing jeans
    And a small yellow rose in her hair

    What are you going to do?
    She asked me smiling
    “Whatever you want” I said
    We went to the sea and get wet our dreams

    I winked my eyes, and a dolphin
    Painted a curl wave in its chest

    Then I laughed and we break the ice
    We bite our fingers each other
    Like a viola in a cello solo

    You’re like a little ant
    That kisses and bites
    That runs through my back
    And lays into my beard
    To study geography

    You’re like a trapeze artist
    Who goes through my tongue;
    And your flowers circus
    Loads me and let me go
    Losing the count
    Losing the count
    You are

    And I wanted to cry
    But only in my right eye
    She was talking about the moon and Chopin
    And I was playing the prelude of a kiss

    Then I laughed and we break the ice
    We bite our fingers each other
    Like a viola in a cello solo

    You’re like a little ant
    That kisses and bites
    That runs through my back
    And lays into my beard
    To study geography

    You’re like a trapeze artist
    Who goes through my tongue;
    And your flowers circus
    Loads me and let me go
    Losing the count
    Losing the count
    You are

  3. The Following User Says Thank You to Erito For This Useful Post:
    asasas (09-25-2010)

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