Marzo
Duratierra
March
It's here, it started to blow
From his bandoneon
Rusty whirlwinds
And yellow tangos
The southern autumn, pale season
Cat on the wall
And a neighbor on the sidewalk
Listening to the radio
Just to be, like this
Watching the gray drizzle fall
And the wind, the face, the voice
This faithful wind, metal back
That came from the South
Dragging memories with an ox
It's yesterday's bread
Time passing is like a centipede
Fits in one hand
But come on, when you look at its feet
You go with it
Thank goodness the sun came out
And so, to feel some warmth
And the wind, the voice
And the wind, the face, the voice
This faithful wind, made me go back
To my childhood
Kites and paper airplanes
Fly with it
White apron of first love
Clothes on the clothesline
Old red buses
That will not run again
Old as the sea, so far away
I don't know what it has but it comes
And when you get your feet wet
You go with it
You go with it
Get on the train, it's about to leave
And you have to face the sun and smile
And build some hut in a happy place
And resist... And resist
