A shade of pain,
a body ripped apart,
a broken heart,
raging like fire in an iron frame….

And here you are,
the man who’s loved me more,
hurt me more,
when passion outbalanced your shame….

How could I’ve resisted
comfort I missed,
a promise of exctasy,
made my body dream,
run from agony….
But how I love you,
For what you are, not for what you are not.
In spite of ourselves I can see,
you’ve painted a portait of love…. for me….

A shade of pain,
a marriage torn apart,
a broken heart,
boldly displayed in a wooden frame….

And there he was,
This understanding man,
with tender hands,
Respect so much stronger than shame….

We thrived on emotion,
taking no notion,
of feelings except our own.
Sad, but in the end,
everyone’s alone….
But how I love you,
For what you are, not for what you are not.
In spite of ourselves I can see,
You’ve painted a portait of love…. for me….

Esta noche m’emborrachó, Frida, Mi arbol de la Esperanza
nina de mi corazón,
mañana será otro dia, mantente firme!
y veran que tengo razon!

How I love you,
For what you are, not for what you are not.
In spite of ourselves I can see
You’ve painted a portait of love…. for me….