De Lo Poco Que Tengo

With my string of trills I would like to reach, brother
To that sacred place where life begins
With these verses that nest in my chest, voice, and hand

From there, be your friend, share with you my wheat
My guitar and the destiny of a lover of the wind
I want to bring to your dreams the sweet embrace of wine

I want to immerse myself in your silence to grow with your shout
As a fisherman in the river or as a lumberjack in the sawmill
When the blood is not enough for the wheat and bread of your children

Like a bird on the tree, I unravel my feelings
Singing my thoughts, my eternal philosophy
That unleashes the joy of giving what little I have

I'm singing, fellow countryman, who suffers, loves, and dreams
And lives sowing stars in the hearts of children
With your soul of the Moon and nest heart of a folk dance

You will be little and nothing, buddy, if you don't sow hopes
If you don't give, don't expect anything, and don't curse your luck
When the angel of death is lurking around your pillow

According to your stature as a man will be the mark you leave
There are those who are born and grow with a shadowy destiny
Poor is when the Sun rises without leaving traces, it dies

Like a bird on the tree, I unravel my feelings
Singing my thoughts, my eternal philosophy
That unleashes the joy of giving what little I have