Como la cigarra

So many times they killed me
so many times I died
yet here I am, coming back to life.
I thank misfortune
and the hand with a knife
because it killed me so badly
and I kept on singing.

Singing to the sun like the cicada
after a year underground
just like a survivor
who returns from war.

So many times they erased me
so many times I disappeared
and to my own funeral I went
alone and crying.
I tied a knot in my handkerchief
but then I forgot
that it wasn't the last time
and I kept on singing.

Singing to the sun like the cicada...

So many times they killed you
so many times you'll rise again
how many nights will you spend in despair?
And at the hour of shipwreck
and of darkness
someone will rescue you
to keep on singing.

Singing to the sun like the cicada...