Learn Spanish With Andrés Cepeda with these 23 Song Recommendations (Full Translations Included!)

In this beautiful and heartbreaking song, Colombian artist Andrés Cepeda uses the metaphor of a flower to tell a story of love and loss. The singer finds a "colorless" flower with "black petals," representing a person who is sad and perhaps damaged from past experiences. He lovingly cares for this person, nurturing them until they finally "bloom" into someone vibrant and beautiful, whose eyes now shine.

Just as he is admiring the beauty he helped create, he learns a painful lesson. He sings that it's not enough to just give your heart, because in this "cruel life," someone else—a "bee" seeking honey—can come and steal your flower away. The song captures the bittersweet feeling of helping someone heal, only to lose them, leaving the singer to conclude that the more beautiful the flower, the more it hurts when it's gone.

Have you ever had a crush on a friend and been too scared to say anything? This song is all about that moment when you just can't hide it anymore. The singer has been friends with someone for a long time, but he has a secret: "hay verdades que no te sabes / Y tengo que confesarte" (there are truths you don't know / and I have to confess them to you). He's finally ready to admit that what he feels isn't just friendship, it's something more, something he calls "magia" (magic).

He feels this magic is so powerful and "se contagia" (it's contagious) that he wants to "gritarle a la gente que te quiero" (scream to the people that I love you). He's done denying it. He even thinks their meeting was fated, that it was "escrito / En mi destino" (written / in my destiny). The song gets even more specific, admitting that sometimes a "beso prohibido por error se me sale" (a forbidden kiss slips out by mistake). It's a super sweet and romantic song about taking that leap from friends to something more.

Picture a drizzly Sunday morning in Bogotá: rain-soaked leaves, a greasy breakfast plate, pillows still warm, and that bittersweet quiet just after shared laughter — this is the intimate scene where Andrés Cepeda’s “Desesperado” begins, only to shatter it with the sudden exit of a lover. The song follows a narrator who spirals from cozy domesticity into raw obsession, confessing that he scrolls through photos, tracks comments, and maps out every place she might be, all while fully aware that his behavior is unhealthy. Cepeda layers upbeat pop melodies over lyrics that bare a heart roto, dañado, un poco desesperado, painting a relatable portrait of post-breakup desperation: the hunger for answers, the salty sting of rejection, and the relentless hope that the best moment will come back. In just under four minutes, he reminds listeners that love can turn anyone into a detective, a poet, and a fool — sometimes all at once.

"No Sé Querer" is a confession sung right before a farewell. The singer says what he needs to say before the other person walks out, treating this maybe-last night together as a moment of truth rather than a fight.

He looks back on how completely she shaped him. She is the one certainty he has, and admits he learned everything about love through her. Now he faces losing her and worries she'll leave without ever knowing the depth of what he feels.

The title line is the emotional core: after everything, he still doesn't know how to love well, or how to love anyone else the way he loved her. It's a song about gratitude and heartbreak tangled together, not blame.

"El Equivocado" is Andrés Cepeda's confession from a man who knows he's about to break the heart of a partner who has done nothing wrong. He admits he's lied to her many times and isn't the man she deserves, even though he's the one who won her heart in the first place.

He calls her "the right one" whose only flaw is being too perfect for him, while his own flaw is treating her badly. Rather than pretend to change, he tells her not to come looking for him — sooner or later he'll make her cry, so she's better off staying away.

The song's core irony is in its title: he'll keep lying, even claiming he waited his whole life for her, just to seem sincere — because deep down he already knows he's "the wrong one" for her. By the end he's asking her to forget him and erase him from her life, admitting he's run out of the goodwill a person can spend on someone else.

Andrés Cepeda spends the whole song building one long list of things that leave quietly and can't be stopped. He opens with "Como las aves de paso" (Like migratory birds) and "Como se escurre la arena en mis manos" (As sand slips through my hands), nothing violent, just steady loss he can't grip. The chorus turns that list into an argument for accepting it: "Y te dejo ir como se evapora el agua" (And I let you go as water evaporates), "Como va muriendo en el calendario el mes de Abril" (As the month of April dies on the calendar). He's comparing heartbreak to the most ordinary changes in the world, and somehow that's the comfort.

The second verse gets more specific: "Como caen las hojas en los parques de Madrid" (As leaves fall in Madrid's parks) puts the memory somewhere real, and "Como la vida en un pestañazo" (Like life in a blink) admits the whole relationship went by faster than he expected. By the closing "Yo te dejo ir amor, yo te dejo ir" (I let you go, love, I let you go), the repetition stops sounding dramatic. It sounds like someone talking himself into something he still doesn't fully believe.

Andrés Cepeda spends this song admitting something he's ashamed of. "Qué difícil es amar" [How hard it is to love], he starts, describing himself betting everything on cards hidden under the table. He's the storm next to her calm, sneaking into her dreams at night to say what he can't say to her awake: "Quisiera colarme entre tus sueños" [I'd like to sneak into your dreams].

The chorus lays out exactly what he did wrong. "Porque tus besos" [Because your kisses], "Los gasté en alguien más" [I wasted them on someone else], he admits, and no apology fixes that. He can't shake her either: "Tus labios nunca lograré dejar atrás" [Your lips I'll never manage to leave behind]. By the end he isn't defending himself anymore, just stating what's underneath all of it: he loves her more than he knows what to do with.

Lo Que Me Había Olvidado is Andrés Cepeda’s musical wake-up call for a heart that thought it had retired. After a string of heartbreaks, the singer admits he forgot every step of the love playbook: dialing the phone without fear, laughing until it hurts, surrendering his pride to chase a woman. Love had treated him so badly that even butterflies and stolen-kiss adrenaline felt like distant legends.

Everything changes the moment he meets her. One look, and the feelings he had shelved come flooding back—familiar yet brand-new, as if they knew each other “from another life.” Suddenly there are fireworks in his chest, and he is raising a glass to Cupid for proving romance can still surprise him. The chorus is pure celebration: he remembers what he had buried, feels “de todo contigo,” and rediscovers the electrifying joy of loving too much. The song is a vibrant reminder that even the most guarded heart can relearn its favorite language when the right person appears.

Andrés Cepeda sings "Un Pacto" as a promise made before the other person even arrives. He's patient with someone who takes their time, telling himself "Ya estás aquí sin llegar" [You're already here without arriving] — she's present in his mind before she's present at all.

The chorus turns the waiting into a vow: "Será un pacto amor eterno tú y yo" [It will be a pact, eternal love, you and I]. He isn't promising perfection, just presence: "Puedes contar con mi abrazo, cuando te sientas rendir" [You can count on my embrace, when you feel like giving up].

“Me Voy” finds Colombian pop star Andrés Cepeda bidding a tender yet decisive goodbye: tipsy with truth, he admits that although he trailed his lover hasta el mar and even offered the moon as a piece of his own soul, his love could not fit in her overstuffed pockets. The lyrics paint a portrait of a man who has poured out everything—songs, dreams, and devotion—only to realize that staying would drown them both. Accepting his pain as a kind of karmic debt, he leaves with calm tears, determined to save her by removing himself, and in doing so transforms heartbreak into a poetic act of self-respect and celestial romance.

"Mejor Que A Ti Me Va" is Andres Cepeda's answer to an ex who expected him to fall apart.

He admits the breakup was hard and the pain took time to leave behind, but he never wished his ex any harm. Now he watches them face the consequences of how they treated him, and life, as he puts it, is paying them back. The hook says it plainly: he is doing better than they are.

"Canta Conmigo" ("Sing With Me") is Andrés Cepeda's tribute to the music running through his own veins. He opens by naming every style that shaped him: "Soy una mezcla de sonero, de rasta con bolero, y mariachi con blues" ("I'm a mix of a sonero, of rasta with bolero, and mariachi with blues"), and calls himself a "bohemio, aventurero que se gana el dinero cantando a media luz" ("bohemian, an adventurer who earns his living singing in dim light").

He isn't chasing money — he gives away what he has, line after line: "Solo quiero vivir de la forma que soy, tan solo regalando música y amor" ("I just want to live the way I am, only giving away music and love"), and lets his guitar carry the ache he can't put into words: "Te regalo la piel en cada inspiración que llora mi guitarra" ("I give you my skin in every inspiration that my guitar cries out"). The chorus turns that private confession into an open invitation — everyone gets to join in: "Canta, canta conmigo" ("Sing, sing with me").

"Eres Parte de Todo" is Andrés Cepeda's confession that one person has quietly become inseparable from every ordinary moment of his life. The hook answers its own question with the title line: "Tú eres parte de todo" ("You're part of everything") — not a memory he visits now and then, but something woven into his music, his laughter, "lo grande y lo pequeño de todo" (the big and the small of it all).

The verses build outward from the same idea. "Nunca dejo de pensar en ti" ("I never stop thinking about you") opens the song, and by the bridge he's admitting "Por un beso tuyo me perdí" ("For one of your kisses, I got lost"). It reads less like a typical love song and more like a description of what it feels like when one person takes over everything you do without you noticing it happen.

Andrés Cepeda's "Un Ratito" is a really sweet and relatable song about someone who's become so used to being with their partner that they've almost forgotten how to be alone. It's not a sad breakup song, though! It's more about wanting to test the waters and see if they can still stand on their own two feet.

He sings, "Aléjate un poquito a ver / Qué pasa cuando estas / A más de 3 pasitos de mi piel" [Move away a little to see / What happens when you are / More than 3 little steps from my skin], suggesting a gentle experiment. He even proposes a funny little test: "Probemos tú ve por leche, yo por pan / Pero encontrémonos en la mitad" [Let's try, you go for milk, I'll go for bread / But let's meet in the middle]. He admits he's become a "sombra fiel" [faithful shadow] and needs to remember who he is without them. He wants to learn to live "Un ratito sin tu compañía" [A little while without your company], just to prove to himself that he can. It's a charming look at rediscovering independence within a relationship.

Andrés Cepeda, a Colombian artist, brings us a song about a difficult goodbye in "Que No He Sido Yo." It's a really honest look at someone who knows they need to end a relationship, even if it's painful. The singer admits, "Quizás será muy tarde ya / Para poder decirte toda la verdad" [Maybe it will be too late now / To be able to tell you all the truth], showing the struggle of holding onto a secret for too long. He'd rather face the pain of losing the person than continue to deceive them, saying, "Prefiero perderte / Antes que engañarte" [I prefer to lose you / Before I deceive you].

What's really interesting is how the song encourages the other person to move on and find happiness, even though the singer is the one leaving. Lines like "No dejes que la vida pase / No dejes que el dolor te alcance" [Don't let life pass by / Don't let the pain reach you] and "Abraza un poco más tus sueños / Y encuéntrale a tu amor un dueño / Que no he sido yo" [Embrace your dreams a little more / And find an owner for your love / That it hasn't been me] show a selfless wish for the other person to find love with someone else. It's a bittersweet farewell, acknowledging the shared solitude that will come with the parting, but also a hope for new beginnings.

"Infinito" is a quiet, patient love song about being second choice and refusing to give up anyway.

The narrator admits there's no proof the two of them are truly together, no public claim on each other, but insists he'll never accept a flat no. He calls out the other person's denial: they can swear they never came looking, never found him again, but their heart will give them away.

The hook turns that imbalance into something hopeful. Whatever small amount of affection he's given feels infinite to him, and he wants more anyway. He compares it to love that evaporates versus love whose warmth stays, trusting that the universe eventually puts everything in its place.

By the bridge he admits he's arriving late to this, but insists it's never too late for real love, closing on the idea that it's better late than never.

Andrés Cepeda, a fantastic artist from Colombia, brings us "Tú Eres Parte De Mí" [You Are Part Of Me], a song that really digs into what it means to have someone know you inside and out. It's all about that deep connection where another person sees you through everything: "Cuando estoy en tierra firme / Cuando estoy en las alturas" [When I'm on solid ground / When I'm in the heights], and even your "locuras" [craziness].

What I love about this song is how it describes a bond that goes beyond just the good times. Cepeda sings about being there "En las buenas y en las malas" [In the good times and in the bad], and even when they're arguing, they're still "uno para el otro y nunca nos aburrimos" [one for the other and we never get bored]. It's a sweet and honest look at a relationship where you can't hide anything because the other person knows you so well, it's like they're a part of you, even in "esta / Y en la otra vida" [this / And in the other life]. It's a beautiful sentiment, don't you think?

Andrés Cepeda, a Colombian artist, brings us "Corre Tiempo" [Run, Time], a song that perfectly captures that desperate feeling when you just want to fast-forward through a painful breakup. He asks the big questions we all wonder: "Dónde va el amor cuando se acaba" [Where does love go when it ends?] and "Quién le pone palabras al dolor que dejó" [Who puts words to the pain it left behind?]. It's all about the sting of lost trust, not just the initial hurt, as he sings, "No te duele el golpe, lo que duele es la confianza que se perdió" [The blow doesn't hurt, what hurts is the trust that was lost].

He's pleading with time itself, "Corre, corre, corre tiempo, Sácame de este momento" [Run, run, run time, Get me out of this moment]. The goal? To see that person again and feel nothing – "y no sentir amor ni sufrimiento" [and not feel love or suffering]. It's a relatable wish for anyone who's been through a tough split, wanting to erase the feelings and move on. He also has a blunt truth: "El que entrega todo al final no tiene nada" [He who gives everything in the end has nothing], which is a tough lesson learned from heartbreak. This song is a raw, honest look at healing and the hope that time really does make things better.

In “Para Dar Contigo”, Andrés Cepeda is basically saying: I had to survive a lot of wrong kisses, half-love, and lonely mornings just to finally find you. He talks about “tanto beso que se me quedó en tanta boca sin amor” [so many kisses that stayed with me in so many mouths without love] and “tanto amor se desbordó inútilmente” [so much love overflowed uselessly]. The idea is harsh and a bit funny at the same time: he spent years giving love to people who did not really want it. All those failed attempts, all that “compartir las soledades mutuamente” [sharing loneliness with each other], left him tired and emotionally worn out.

What makes the song feel hopeful is that he believes all that mess was the road to this one person. He says “tuve que empeñar en otros brazos el abrigo” [I had to pawn my coat in other arms] and “al correr dejé pedazos de piel por el camino” [running, I left pieces of skin along the way]. It sounds dramatic, but it is his way of saying love has cost him a lot. He even had to “reinventé la fe que se había perdido” [reinvent the faith that had been lost] so he could still arrive “con algo de amor en los bolsillos” [with some love in my pockets]. By the end, when he sings “y ahora soy feliz, porque di contigo” [and now I am happy, because I found you], it feels like a long, exhausting emotional journey that finally has a calm, real ending instead of “otro fracaso repetido” [another repeated failure].

Andrés Cepeda, a fantastic artist from Colombia, brings us "Siempre Estás Tú," a song that really gets into the everyday struggles and how one special person makes it all better. He talks about the constant back and forth, like "Entre lo que digo y lo que pienso" [Between what I say and what I think] and "Entre lo que hago y lo que deseo" [Between what I do and what I want]. It's all about those little risks we take as we grow, even through bad days and good ones.

What I love is how he describes all the chaos of life: "Entre tanta incertidumbre y noticieros" [Between so much uncertainty and news reports], and even the stress of "El fin de mes y corto de dinero" [The end of the month and short on money]. But no matter what, through all the frustrations and an uncertain future, there's always that one person: "Siempre estás tú cuando más lo necesito" [You are always there when I need you most]. It's such a sweet and relatable feeling, knowing someone is always there to spoil you a little, even "cuando sufro, cuando río" [when I suffer, when I laugh]. It's a beautiful reminder that amidst all of life's ups and downs, having that constant support is everything.

“Día Tras Día” is Andrés Cepeda’s heartfelt love letter to that special person who turns everyday life into a calm oasis. Playing with images of time — a summer, a year, a fleeting word like “te quiero” or “te amo” — the Colombian singer-songwriter asks: how can something so short capture feelings so deep? He decides it cannot, so he stretches the idea of love into something that lasts sunrise after sunrise. Even stepping into the world feels like walking through a war, yet by his partner’s side he finds peace, protection, and the courage to keep going.

At its core the song promises enduring companionship. Cepeda prays to the sky for their love to remain the same, dreams of waking up to her smile every morning, and insists that farewells always circle back to reunions. The chorus – “Día tras día” – sums up the message: true love is measured not in dramatic declarations but in the quiet joy of sharing life day after day.

Andrés Cepeda, a Colombian artist, brings us "Faltarán," a beautiful song that explores what truly matters in life. He starts by listing all the things that might be missing: "Faltarán los amigos en la casa" (Friends will be missing from the house), "Faltará la comida en la despensa" (Food will be missing from the pantry), and even passion and words. He mentions the absence of important things, certainties, and even a good name for their children or fairy tales.

But here's the twist: despite all these potential absences, he finds peace. He sings, "Y yo estaré tranquilo, seguiré tranquilo Pues si estás conmigo, ya no hará falta nada" (And I will be calm, I will remain calm, because if you are with me, nothing will be missing). This sentiment carries through to old age and even death, as he imagines them growing old, running out of breath, and facing the end, yet still finding comfort in the presence of his loved one. It's a sweet reminder that with the right person by your side, you have everything you need.

Andrés Cepeda, a Colombian artist, really pours his heart out in "Si Fueras Mi Enemigo"! This song is all about that kind of love that's so intense, it actually hurts. He sings, "Se necesita amarte mucho mucho / Para poder perdonarte como siempre lo hago yo" [It takes loving you so, so much / To be able to forgive you like I always do]. It's a feeling many of us can relate to – being so deeply in love that you keep forgiving someone, even when they cause you pain.

He feels completely under her spell, saying, "No se que hacer contigo / Me tienes embrujado" [I don't know what to do with you / You have me bewitched]. The title line, "Si fueras mi enemigo / No me harías tanto daño" [If you were my enemy / You wouldn't hurt me so much], really hits hard. It shows how the deepest wounds often come from the people we love the most. Despite all the hurt, he admits, "No se respirar si no te siento mía" [I can't breathe if I don't feel you're mine], showing just how dependent he feels on this complicated love. It's a powerful look at the struggle of wanting to leave someone who hurts you, but being unable to.