Facundo Cabral.
Estimado Facundo, te quiero,
siempre distes lo mejor de ti,
mi corazón ya adolorido por nuestras tragedias
en los encuentros
te encontro una vez.
No se que decirte,
o decir,
pienso,
solo pienso que donde tocaste
nuestros dolores,
y con los dedos restregastes
las heridas que no se
restrañaban,
siempre hubieron ojos
sin olvido dispuestos a la
orgía de la muerte.
Desde lo más obscuro
de la tinieblas
la fiera herida
atacando
al que lleva en su pecho,
en su pecho floreciente
el canto suave de la mont
la dulzura de la añoranzas,
el ojo suave de dios,
la mano silente de nuestras compañeras.
Estimado Facundo, te quiero,
siempre distes lo mejor de ti,
mi corazón ya adolorido por nuestras tragedias
te encontró bañado en tu sangre.
Desde lo más obscuro
de la tinieblas
la fiera herida
atacando
al que lleva en su pecho,
en su pecho floreciente
el canto suave de la mont
la dulzura de las añoranzas,
el ojo suave de dios,
la mano silente de nuestras compañeras.
Bueno, siempre te quedarás con nosotros,
Facundo
pues tu canto reverdecerá cada mañana
entre las montañas.
Facundo Cabral.
Dear Facundo, I love you
always give the best of you,
My heart sore from our tragedies
in the encounter
I found you once.
I do not know how to tell you
or say,
I think,
I just think that where you touched
our sorrows
wit your fingers rub
the wounds that not
stanch,
always had been eyes
without forget ready to
the orgy of death.
From the darkest
of darkness
the mercenary hand jumps
the wounded animal
attacking
who has in his chest,
in his chest flourishing
the soft singing of mountains
the sweetness of the longings,
the soft eye of God,
the silent hand of our partners.
Dear Facundo, I love you
always give the best f you,
My heart already sore from our tragedies
found you bathed in your blood.
Not to say,
or say,
I think,
I just think that where you played
our sorrows
with your fingers rub
wounds that not
stanch
always were eyes
without forget ready to
the orgy of death.
Well, always you stay with us,
Facundo
therefore, your song grow green again
Dear Facundo, I love you
always give the best of you,
My heart sore from our tragedies
in the encounter
I found you once.
I do not know how to tell you
or say,
I think,
I just think that where you touched
our sorrows
wit your fingers rub
the wounds that not
stanch,
always had been eyes
without forget ready to
the orgy of death.
From the darkest
of darkness
the mercenary hand jumps
the wounded animal
attacking
who has in his chest,
in his chest flourishing
the soft singing of mountains
the sweetness of the longings,
the soft eye of God,
the silent hand of our partners.
Dear Facundo, I love you
always give the best f you,
My heart already sore from our tragedies
found you bathed in your blood.
Not to say,
or say,
I think,
I just think that where you played
our sorrows
with your fingers rub
wounds that not
stanch
always were eyes
without forget ready to
the orgy of death.
Well, always you stay with us,
Facundo
therefore, your song grow green again
every morning
among the mountains.
among the mountains.
No comments:
Post a Comment