A El Cambacito

How difficult it is in verse, to tell you how much they suffered,
the humble men who admired you so much,
your light went out and Sunday was full of sadness and pain,
your voice was a silent silence, a great dreamer left.
they called you "El Cambacito" and you were a radio thrush,
Javier Fernández Ortiz from the coastal scenes,
in those cold early mornings, your voice was a companion and friend,
you were a tireless fighter, life was hard for you.
Chiquisuela, Doña Nelva, and Chamigo Olivera,
lost their creator,
you left a fruitful legacy, a path of love.
today your star went out to shine in the sky,
you were attentive and helpful, you were the voice of my people,
but then how to forget you, how to say you're not here,
how to think you won't come back, where will your tenacious fight continue.
your 'see you later' my dear friends, will be a memory in my people,
your image of a good man still lingers,
Cambacito... you are present,
in the air your voice sings, tears cloud my eyes,
and silence my throat,
maybe, I say... I don't know, but perhaps up there in the sky,
angels sing with verses of old chamamé singers,
and in a two-row formation, the final farewell of Don Walberto shines,
who was your faithful companion in your coastal scenes.