Huracán translates to "hurricane". It's a strong and evocative word that immediately brings to mind a powerful force of nature.
In the song, David Bisbal uses it metaphorically to describe how quickly time passes and envelops us: "El tiempo pasa y nos envuelve como huracán" (Time passes and envelops us like a hurricane). This vivid imagery makes the word memorable and highlights the song's theme of seizing the moment.
"Hijos Del Mar" opens on a lazy afternoon by the water, paper boats and waves breaking under "Una tarde bajo el sol" (An afternoon in the sun). That calm doesn't survive the chorus. Bisbal turns impatient fast, insisting "Quiero todo y quiero más" (I want everything and I want more) and refusing to wait around for it. "No me sentaré a esperar" (I won't sit back and wait), he sings, then makes the case for urgency outright: "Es tarde si no es hoy" (It's late if not today).
The sea keeps returning as the way he describes the relationship itself. "El tiempo pasa y nos envuelve como huracán" (Time passes and envelops us like a hurricane) turns love into weather nobody can outrun, and by the bridge the two of them are just "Los dos, hijos del mar" (The two, children of the sea), "Nadar sin respirar" (Swimming without breathing) because stopping for air would mean stopping. He even names the risk in it outright: "Perder para ganar" (Losing to win). It's a love song written by someone who has decided that waiting is the only real danger.