Cardo

From all the places I follow footprints,
so they lead me on serene nights,
towards the same sky, to bring down stars,
to put slices on my cheeks.

I don't use a guitar hanging from the strings,
I carry six colors of early dawn,
but I always put the same as the wind:
a serenade at every window.

I'm crossing plains without my horizons, hey are the two ears of my horse,
and if the mountain crosses the path,
I fulfill visits to the chatty thrush.

And for my defense I put faith in my arm,
but only when it's fair,
it never opened a wound when it came to it,
I don't like things that degrade a man.

I am also a breeze and I know that the nard
the virgin wants it for being a divine flower,
Ah, curse!, may it never turn into a thistle,
so it never knows what a thorn is.

I'm crossing the plain trusting my luck,
I'm a thistle puff that flies by.

But if I were to be in a tight spot,
I'll be the agony of a whole race.

From all the places I follow footprints,
so they lead me on serene nights,
towards the same sky, to bring down stars,
to put slices on my cheeks.

I don't use a guitar hanging from the strings,
I carry six colors of early dawn,
but I always put the same as the wind:
a serenade at every window.