Per Sant Joan
Joan Manuel Serrat
For Saint John's Day
One evening when summer opened its eyes
Through those streets where you and I grew up
Where we learned to run
On a palm of sand
A bonfire was lit for Saint John
Then a piece of wood was a treasure
And with an old table we were already rich
Through the streets and squares
We went from house to house
To make everything burn that night
For Saint John
We were four trench-diggers
We didn't know much
About the tears that make the world go round
We were entering life
Never a lie
We didn't need it and nothing stole our sleep
Those Saint John's nights
The years have taken me away from my street
And those playmates have been lost
The good and the bothersome
As if everything had burned in the fire
Of Saint John
And now, this afternoon
Once again
I see the kids gathering firewood in the street
They run
Like I used to run
I call them and they look at me
As if I were a strange and fleeting bug
This Saint John's night
Give me a piece of wood to burn
Or I'll take it from wherever I can, like yesterday
As if there were no other
I have been like you
I don't want to feel old tonight
May a piece of wood be a treasure again
May I be rich with an old table
Through the streets and squares
I will go from house to house
To make everything burn this night
For Saint John