Learn Spanish With Amaral with these 10 Song Recommendations (Full Translations Included!)
“Te Necesito” is a heartfelt pop ballad where Amaral paints the raw ache of longing with vivid, almost cinematic images: a soul so young it struggles to name its feelings, yet so certain it would bargain with heavenly forces to erase the distance between lovers. Throughout the song, the singer confesses that forgetting is impossible because the beloved’s name floats in the air, woven into every memory, and their absence turns life into a never-ending winter. The repeated plea, “Te necesito como a la luz del sol,” compares this love to sunlight that can thaw the coldest season - a warmth both life-giving and indispensable. Even when conscience whispers that this love might be forbidden or unattainable, passion wins, and reason dissolves in the depths of the beloved’s eyes. In short, the lyrics capture the universal tension between reason and desire, illustrating how true need can eclipse logic and make us promise the impossible just to feel someone’s warmth again.
Ready for a voyage without leaving your seat? In “Mares Igual Que Tú,” Amaral turns the entire planet’s oceans into a poetic mirror for someone they love. Every verse splashes the listener with vivid images: foggy seas, crystal-bright waters, warm tropical currents, and treacherous waves that make us feel alive. No matter their mood or location – from the Falklands to Gibraltar – all seas share the same essence as this captivating person. The tide that comes and goes, the waves that slowly eat away at sand and doubt, even the river that bends toward the lover’s hips… it all flows back to the same magnetic center: you.
Amaral’s message is simple yet sweeping. Love can be serene or stormy, shallow or unfathomably deep, but it is always powerful, mysterious, and universal. By equating every ocean on Earth with a single beloved soul, the song invites us to feel both small and infinite, just like a drop in the sea that somehow contains the whole world. Close your eyes, let the rhythm roll in like a tide, and discover how vast affection can be when it’s measured in oceans.
Noise, noise, noise… The singer’s world is buzzing with missed calls, half-meant words, and the metallic clang of shutters at dawn. Then, in a split second, someone steps in “like a flash of light,” and every racket stops. “Ruido” is Amaral’s ode to that electrifying eye-lock that silences the chaos of modern life. We don’t know where either person is from, what they believe, or who they sleep next to – and that is exactly the point. The song celebrates how a raw, wordless connection can mute the background static and make time feel irrelevant.
By repeating the word ruido just as the instruments swirl louder, the track reminds us of the clutter we live with, only to strip it away with a single gaze. It is both a love song and a mindfulness anthem: when two souls truly meet, the universe goes quiet and everything unnecessary fades into the distance. Enjoy the track, and see if you can feel that moment when the noise around you switches off too!
Nocturnal casts us into a restless night where the singer holds up a flashing warning sign: “I’m trouble, don’t get too close.” Through vivid images of planets spinning out of sync and the Earth battling the Sun, Amaral paints a sky-wide picture of inner chaos. The narrator confesses a lack of discipline, an irresistible urge to self-sabotage, and a sense that destiny’s “mysterious laws of chance” are always one step ahead. It is a candid, almost cinematic monologue from someone who feels caught in perpetual orbit around their own darker impulses.
Yet beneath the gloom lies a subtle spark of resilience. References to sinking like the submarine Red October and then rising again hint at a turbulent cycle: destruction followed by rebirth. The song ultimately explores the magnetic pull of self-destruction and the fragile hope of surfacing once more, inviting listeners to recognize the nocturnal corners of their own hearts while staying alert to the raw honesty of the warning offered.
Cuando Suba La Marea paints a vivid picture of youthful dreams crashing against the shoreline of reality. At first, the singer recalls a pact of endless adventures, breathlessly trying to “eat the world” and come home just in time for New Year’s. Those memories shimmer with reckless optimism, yet they also expose how naïve the lovers were—believing life was a fairy tale and they were royalty destined to win every game.
The tide eventually rises, washing away crowns and castles in the sand. Realizing she was never anyone’s “princess,” the narrator embraces her own mortal heartbeat, choosing freedom over fantasy. The song’s refrain of lying on the beach and letting the water carry her away transforms the tide into a symbol of release: surrendering old illusions, welcoming change, and trusting that every wave can sweep us toward new horizons. It is a bittersweet but empowering anthem reminding us that letting go is sometimes the boldest adventure of all.
Días De Verano is Amaral’s bittersweet postcard from a summer that slipped away too soon. Over a jangly guitar and a touch of melancholy pop-rock, the singer looks back on those sun-drenched moments as her last window to make things right: to ask forgiveness, erase the hurt she caused, and seal everything with one more kiss. But the season has changed—the summer breeze has turned into a chill wind, dark clouds cover the sky, and every time she meets her lover’s eyes, she is struck dumb by regret. The repeated line “No quedan días de verano” (“There are no summer days left”) hammers home the cruel reality that time has closed the door on second chances.
The lyric turns that lost summer into a powerful symbol of light versus shadow. When she feels his absence, it’s “like a solar eclipse,” plunging her into the “reino de la soledad”—the kingdom of loneliness. Memories of his luminous gaze keep haunting her, yet she believes he will never know how deeply she still feels. The song captures that universal ache of realizing too late what we had and how quickly joy can fade, leaving only echoes of warmth in the cold seasons that follow.
Picture the scene: the birthday guests have left, only one candle still flickers on the cake, and the room feels both magical and painfully quiet. In that tender silence, the singer realises that although the day looked perfect from the outside, inside she is restless. The remaining flame becomes a symbol of her last spark of patience with pretending everything is fine.
The chorus explodes like a super-nova: “Quiero vivir, quiero gritar, quiero sentir el universo sobre mí.” It is a raw wish to break free, to swap polite smiles for genuine laughter, tears and adventure. She longs to escape the dollhouses, patent-leather shoes and other relics of childhood, and to discover her own place in the vast cosmic party. The song turns that private yearning into an uplifting anthem for anyone who has ever felt alone in a crowd yet still believes the universe is waiting to be embraced — wide-eyed, loud and utterly alive.
Marta, Sebas, Guille y los demás feels like flipping through a well-worn photo album while racing from airport to airport. Amaral’s singer-narrator is on tour, yet her thoughts keep jet-lagging back to the gang that once filled every street corner and summer night. Phone calls at dawn, half-played guitars in hotel rooms and sudden job losses paint a vivid collage of real life in motion: some friends move countries, others welcome babies, and money or distance constantly threatens to pull them apart. Still, the chorus bursts in like a group hug, reminding us that true friendship can out-shout any goodbye.
The song is both nostalgic and celebratory. Each verse spotlights a different friend—Marta dialing from Spain, Sebas broke in Buenos Aires, Carlos cheering his sister’s freedom from a lousy boss—showing how adulthood scatters people yet forges stronger bonds. By the time the narrator admits she has lost track of “Guille y los demás,” the listener understands the core message: life keeps changing addresses, but the memories we built “por encima de todas las cosas” (above everything else) remain a permanent home.
Fed up with gossip and half-truths, the narrator draws a bold line in the sand. She looks her critic in the eye and says, “Necesito que me dejes en paz”—I need you to leave me in peace. All those rumors? Pure invention. This is the sound of someone slamming the door on vanity and drama, choosing to walk her own path instead. The music captures that mix of frustration and freedom, as if she is literally pushing toxic energy out of the room.
Yet beneath the defiance glows a quiet hope. The singer compares their lives to “líneas paralelas”—parallel lines that never meet, like night and day. They have “nada en común,” nothing in common. Even so, she is “esperando un resplandor,” waiting for a burst of light that signals something better ahead. It is the spark of self-renewal: once the shadows are left behind, a brilliant new chapter can begin.
“Ratonera” is Amaral’s fiery protest anthem. The singer addresses a corrupt, two-faced figure who has thrived on lies, threats, and empty promises. She paints him as a barren-land-creating “king of thieves” and warns that his streak of luck is about to end. The repeated phrase “Puedes intentar que te perdone Dios, no lo haré yo” (You can ask God to forgive you, I won’t) drives home the personal refusal to grant absolution, turning the song into a bold statement of moral accountability.
The title means “mousetrap,” and Amaral uses it to describe how this villain turns the present into a trap for everyone else. Yet the mood is not helpless. With images of a pendulum cutting the rope and the wheel breaking, the lyrics predict an imminent downfall. “Ratonera” channels collective frustration, transforming it into an empowering warning: fear will boomerang back on those who spread it, and justice will catch them in their own trap.