Callejero

He was a street dog by his own right
His philosophy of freedom
Was to win his own without tying others
And never stepping on others
Although he belonged to everyone, he never had an owner
To condition his reason for being
Free as the wind was our dog
Ours and of the street that saw him born

He was a street dog with the sun on his back
Faithful to his destiny and his beliefs
Without a schedule for taking a nap
And being held accountable at dawn

He was our dog and he was the tenderness
That we need more every day
He was a metaphor of the adventure
That cannot be found in the dictionary

He was our dog because what we love
We consider our property
He belonged to the children and to old Pablo
Whom he rescued from his loneliness

He was a street dog and he was the character
Of the open door in any home
He was in our neighborhood like from the landscape
The night watchman, the priest, and all the others
He was the street dog of beautiful things
And he left with them when he left
He took all the stars at once
He fell asleep and never woke up

He left us the space as a testament
Full of nostalgia, full of emotion
His memory wanders through my feelings
To pour them out in this song