Juan Chifla

he remains lying next to the post
more tired and gray with this goodbye
the carriage turned the dusty road
with the last child they had

They all left slowly from that place
like the crying in the room in front of the altar
he looks for the orange trees
where he finds support in a chamamé

He has to walk
suffering a lot, Mr. Juan
he just whistles
when his heart hurts

Not even the orange blossoms
give him the peace he needs
that's why he always whistles
a somewhat sad chamamé

The holidays are approaching and they will come
to satisfy the nostalgia of the old home
taking the places they used to have
at the big table under the grapevine

The pichana broom that cleans the patio
reminds them of the childhood of walking barefoot
and the grandchildren who imitate
the spinning top in the grass

He has to walk
suffering a lot, Mr. Juan
even just whistles
when his heart hurts

And so the holidays go by
and the children get lost
Juan will surely die
if he doesn't whistle his chamamé

Don't cry, Rosita
I already told you once that children are not just for us
they will come back again for the holidays
and then we will be together like now
so let me be like this.