El Caminante

If you're going to confess
Never reveal the doubts
That you make me go through.

Don't give me so much to do,
Because if I grab the door
You'll never see me again.

I am that poor wanderer
Who with his bundle
Always on his back goes,
I keep walking forward
Always looking
Where to rest.

God, what bad luck,
I had to leave
Because of people's talk.
Don't give me complications
Because when you open your mouth
It's to argue and fight.