Novicia
Mercedes Sosa
Novice
She crossed the early line of her childhood,
put on that dress color of yesterday
and was, like an autumn prayer, on her feet,
wounded, offering life
right on the corner, trembling, absent,
in her nakedness.
Her slight bones in a cross
rocking her in soft light,
the guy who caresses her and she
novice, crying.
Oh, where is her love, her blue little prince?
What dark night unleashes
cheap moons on her trousseau!
She drank her cup of oblivion and went out again,
fourteen dreams sinking, drowning.
The loneliness escorts her,
dark faithless dog,
barking at that dead moon that pursues her,
next to the shadow of her childhood.
Her slight bones in a cross,
rocking her in soft light,
the guy who caresses her and she
novice, selling herself.
Oh, where is her love, her blue little prince?
What dark night unleashes
cheap moons on her trousseau!
She crossed the early line of her childhood,
put on that dress color of yesterday.
She drank her cup of oblivion and went out again,
fourteen dreams sinking, drowning.
Crying, Selling herself., Drowning, Selling herself.
