Libélulas translates to "dragonflies" in English. It's a beautiful, slightly whimsical word that isn't commonly found in everyday Spanish songs, giving the lyrics a delicate, almost fairy tale like quality.
In the song, Manuel García sings "Libélulas de jardín" ("Garden dragonflies"), using the image of these fragile, fast moving insects to symbolize delicate and fleeting emotions or memories that flutter briefly before disappearing again.
This song feels like standing at the shore of a memory you never really left. The singer says, "Ahora parece que yo / Debo mirar hacia el mar" [Now it seems that I / Must look toward the sea], and from there everything starts to move between the real sea and the sea inside his head. He remembers seeing the sea at night "entre los botes" [between the boats], and at the same time he is thinking of someone special who will "mañana" [tomorrow] find the flower he left. That image of the flower "contra el pecho" [pressed to the chest] with its "suave fuego" [soft fire] is such a gentle way to talk about desire that still burns, even after time and distance.
All the nature images circle around strong, almost violent feelings. He imagines "una danza sutil / libélulas de jardín" [a subtle dance / garden dragonflies] going across the sky of this person’s feelings, while he admits that this "belleza que quiero olvidar" [beauty I want to forget] keeps calling him back and making him dream. Then he suddenly turns up the intensity with "con la violencia del mar / quisiera volver a besar / hasta sangrar" [with the violence of the sea / I would like to kiss again / until bleeding]. It is romantic and a little brutal at the same time. Even though he says he has lived far from the sea for years, he still returns in his mind to that town and to "mi damisela" [my damsel] in the "jardín de las camelias" [garden of the camellias]. The whole song feels like someone who cannot stop revisiting one powerful love, pulled back again and again like waves hitting the shore.