Con Mi Yunta de Nuncas

Piling up hopes I spend my life
knowing that tomorrow is another day
it doesn't matter who came before or who is coming
the old ones already had, the new ones have
they have other desires that are the same
merged in the nothingness of a mirage
they have broken the idea, they have prejudice
they have centuries of struggle and mishap
They have eyes that see, chests that feel
and some gums that show a tooth
Piling up dreams I spend my life, resting while working
like fatigue
I am a master of misery, bird and branch and sometimes
I am myself a pile of nothing
other times I am a dog following the master
and if I have a wound I just lick it
for reasons I don't understand sometimes I bark
maybe to see if I exist and keep barking
total I open my mouth and the sound comes out
and sometimes another dog barks with me

I learned by struggling to grow old
and I dragged more than one piece of advice to the grave
I have pulled so many crabs out of the swamp
that now even to sit down I hesitate
I pile up hope, that's why I live
heh, thank God it was free to be born
The truth is that I am certain and that's enough
if you keep analyzing, your brain gets tired
and in the end anxiety invades your chest
and from certainty to doubt the gap widens
By doubting myself, I lived bleeding and...
and in every thorn bush I wondered until when
the haughty and silent answer burst
and mother indifference gave me her help
help to be alone, inert help
disregard for life, disgust for death
Nest of bad lights living in darkness and in every sunrise
seeing her bony
being like a gate without a fence
with footprints crossing my side
scratch for anyone who walks scabby
peg from Monday to Monday, grave and stew
orphan of father and mother, recognized son
son to give the arm orphan to receive it
soldier of the tool always on guard
I guard the garden, I hoe the watermelon.
And in every cut that the blade bleeds
its black denture bites my soul
Pattern of my miseries, sole heel
my miseries stay, my years fly.
One day I plucked a dream and sang my sorrows
with strings torn from my arteries,
my finger was the peg, my chest the box
my arm was the fingerboard, my eyes, the pampas.
I sang, I sang and I sang loudly
my faith and my longing, the birds watched me as if amazed
the evening star twinkled and the grass raised its tiny fingers like a grace
everyone laughed, everyone sang
the strings of my dream, they cut them
Pattern of my miseries I follow the path with my team of meek ones
with my team of meek ones I harness destiny
and pile up hopes, that's why I live
thank God it was free to be born.
And I pile up hopes, I spend my life
knowing that tomorrow is another day.
Pattern of my miseries,
I follow the path, with my team of nevers I harness destiny
pattern of my miseries, sole heel
my miseries stay, my years fly.