Pobre Joaquín

(Milonga)

I looked into Joaquin's eyes,
and out of pure kindness, he told me:
not eating doesn't kill,
not eating doesn't kill,
hate and envy do.

Man knows he is here,
doomed from birth,
and hunger doesn't matter,
and hunger doesn't matter,
he deceives it with a dream.

Poor Joaquin, poor Joaquin,
in the midst of silence.

Dawn broke in the serene and cruel light,
from the night looking at stars,
and empty hands,
and empty hands,
turned towards the earth.

I looked into Joaquin's eyes,
so sadly clouded and still.
Dying is nothing,
Dying is nothing
-Joaquin says- already dead.

Poor Joaquin, poor Joaquin,
in the midst of silence.