Maldito Serrat

How did you manage to make me laugh
and cry and feel that the party is starting,
how did you manage to make me happy far from my country that crushes and stinks.
How did you manage to ignite in your voice
the poet of yesterday, from your broken Spain
and tell me how the woman herself
that I love left behind your words.
Damned Serrat... Damned thief... You copied the idea I had
just before I wrote it myself,
damned Serrat... But who could say:
Oh... love, without you I don't understand waking up...
Oh... love, without you my bed is wide,
Oh... love, that reveals the truth,
between you and me the loneliness and a little frost.
How did you manage to make me suffer
for Irene and Manuel and Lucia's goodbye.
How did you manage to lie to me so well,
that I can even believe today will be a great day.
How did you achieve such precision
describing my white and dusty town
if the sacristan around didn't see you,
nor the priest, nor the corporal, nor the dust nor the wind.
Damned Serrat... Damned song...
Knocking on the doors of this heart
that will always be wide open waiting,
beating to your rhythm, just like when you sang:
Oh... Oh utopia... Sweet as our daily bread.
How did you manage to talk so much about me
and the crazies who adore your theme here.
I do nothing but think of you
when I want to write and the poem doesn't come.
How did you manage to overcome time,
with my father it was yesterday, with my daughters now
who thank you for making us see
that life sometimes enchants.
Blessed Serrat... Older brother
of anyone who wants to make a song
of truth, of this time that pushes and sweeps
or of the little things that happen to us.
Blessed Minstrel, don't silence your voice,
what do we do, those of us in this corner
without hearing in your verse the embracing friend,
who can go on and what will become of me if you are far from home