Septimo Hijo

Everything was just like yesterday.
I dreamed and everything was as before.
The people were there, the house was there,
everything was just like before.

The eye of the hurricane didn’t see,
it seems it didn’t know that fire purifies.
The seventh son is coming,
a hungry wolf of joy.
The full moon day is approaching,
I’m the first witness of the thickening air.
The land is burning, the seas are parting,
and the sun falls like it’s made of marble.

The cold turns into another cold,
if it comes from forgetfulness, it won’t calm with a coat.
The seventh son is waking up,
a hungry wolf of joy.

I recognized the old path, I found lost
the son I used to be wanting to return.
I relived my life in an instant,
I saw the horizon fall in a whirlwind.

I’m the one who has no voice,
I’m the one who has no God,
I’m the one who isn’t afraid of death itself.
I’m the one who can’t take it anymore,
I’m the one who has no more,
just a handful of people with the same fate.

And the music flowed despite everything,
like a garden growing in the middle of the ruins.
Its flower radiated the faint hope
of knowing that nothing usually happens in vain.

The blood that long ago reached the river,
a river that knew how to channel itself into energy.
The one of brother and friend, of the warm hand,
the one sung by all my people.

I recognized the old path, I found lost
the son I used to be wanting to return.
I relived my life in an instant,
I saw the horizon fall in a whirlwind.

A photo and a color,
a scent and a taste,
I can’t believe so many true people are missing.

Because without them, I’m not me,
because with them, I left me,
and I keep wandering lifeless behind death.
Behind death.