Eran Tres
Alberto Cortez
They Were Three
They were three, they were three, they were three...
they were three with doves in their hands...
they were three and the three were brothers
of light, of love, and of knowledge.
They were three and the three left...
The first one behind some verses,
the second one to paint the universe
and the third one in the middle of his childhood...
Pablo the sparrow, Pablo the poet and sailor,
Pablo the harlequin, Pablo the painter, Pablo the bullfighter,
Pablo and "the song of the birds", Pablo the teacher,
Pablos of everyone, Pablos of no one... our Pablos.
They were three, they were three, they were three...
Three paths, three footprints, three roads,
three Quixotes defeating the windmills
with a cello, a poem, and a brush.
They were three and the three left...
we are left without Pablos in the world
and the beauty, without them, dying...
what will become of us... what will become!
