Elegia
Ismael Serrano
Elegy
In the neighborhood they mourn your absence
and curse the brown of your destiny.
All the money was spent in the old square
and the big bottles in the Chinese stores.
The boys from La Mina toasted to your memory.
In Barna it rains, they sing bulerías for you.
You're not a hero or a scoundrel.
But life hit you
from the gray outskirts.
Free, I want to be free, I want to be free,
they sing in the galleries of La Modelo.
In the courtyard they remember you, they bless you.
With forty years no one was so old.
Defeated king of the wheel,
they no longer replace your tapes
in the old film library.
Street vendors
take the day off today.
Even the wood is sad.
Today in the heavenly suburbs
Durruti invites you to some wines
in the worst dive.
A Seat 124
waits for you at the exit
with the engine running.
Divine trumpets play
a song by Los Chichos.
Before you were born you were already prison meat,
then you drank mirages through the needle.
Never was there so much anger in a cell
and cirrhosis frustrated your last escape.
Justice is ruthless
with those who have no money
and all that's left is to resist.
Life in the outskirts,
cruel, always opens a wound,
you were its scar.
Today in the heavenly suburbs
Durruti invites you to some wines
in the worst dive.
A Seat 124
waits for you at the exit
with the engine running.
Divine trumpets play
a song by Los Chichos.
Today in the heavenly suburbs
Durruti invites you to some wines
in the worst dive.
A Seat 124
waits for you at the exit
with the engine running.
Divine trumpets play
a song by Los Chichos.
Today in the heavenly suburbs
Durruti invites you to some wines
in the worst dive.
A Seat 124
waits for you at the exit
with the engine warm.
An angel plays on the jukebox
a rumba by Los Chichos.
Free, I want to be free.
I want to be, I want to be free.
