Diez Décimas de Autocrítica

I came to sing, comrades
Because it was my duty
Not to deny the song
But I must be honest
And for me the first thing
Is that it was an act of the front
With a warm heart
And a cool head
I sang as I supposed
That you want me to sing
But I am a militant
And my songs are not mine

For different reasons
For almost ten years
I have sung disappointments
Rebellions and illusions
Those were my songs
Throughout that time
Some were carried by the wind
And others left memories
But time is not history
Nor is life thought

Like many, I have dreamed
Of the front, long before
It came forward
As a dream come true
But I have also sinned
By being individualistic
Sworn anarchist
In front of my own conscience
Without making more experience
Than that of being an artist

Today I feel that I am very little
As a singer and poet
If I never applied recipes
To my songs, either
Neither saner nor crazier
Than any prudent man
More than once I was unconscious
Seeing that I was applauded
That in every applause burned
The hands of many people

It is a risk for the one who performs
His life on stage
To feel that the horizon he sees
Is extraordinary
But the one who catechizes
Supported by the strings
If he does not reason while singing
Like any proletarian
He ceases to be necessary
When the people abandon him

I did not sing for you
The song I would most like
If by some miracle I were
Able to invent it now
Know that without further delay
Than that of extending my hand
I would speak of my brothers
The dead, the tortured
The prisoners, the exploited
Of military and civilian

I have not sung the harsh
Slogans
That rhyme under the shelter
Of this vigilant people
Nor did I sing the rampant verse
Of the consecrated poet
But above all, I clarify
That my most mature song
Will be the one that sings pure
Reasons, which are already many
Of the companion who fights
Without a gun at his waist

Because this people is wild
And will find the way
The singer is a pilgrim
Sound of this stream
If I am anything, I am oriental
And that is my greatest pride
More than a flower I want to be a weed
From my land, well rooted
From the people only a heartbeat
From its walk only the murmur

And I know that victory is certain
As long as we are united
With applauded singers
The future is not built
I feel the duty, and I swear
Not to sing but that
Song that like a star
Shines, but so far
That its reflections do not blind
The one who is sniffing the trail

Farewell comrades!
Know that I was more eager
To say these nonsense
Than to sing. The first thing
For me, is the whole people
True sovereign
Of military and civilian
Singing for themselves
Marching towards socialism
And leading me by the hand