A Víctor

The song cannot be erased
with the blood of the good singer
after he has whistled the air
the tones of his song.

The birds carry notes
to the troubadour's house;
they will have to kill the wind
that speaks of struggle and love.

They will have to silence the river,
they will have to dry up the sea
that inspire and give man
reasons to sing.

The song cannot be erased
with the blood of the good singer,
they will have to kill the wind
that speaks of struggle and love.

They will have to silence the river,
they will have to dry up the sea
that inspire and give man
reasons to sing.

They will have to stop the rain,
they will have to extinguish the sun,
they will have to kill the song
to make them forget your voice.