Los Caminos
Pablo Milanés
The Roads
The roads, the roads
Were not made by themselves
When man, when man,
Stopped crawling.
The roads, the roads
Went to meet each other
When man, when man,
Was no longer alone.
The roads, the roads
That we find made
Are scraps, are scraps
From old neighbors.
Let's not cross, let's not cross
Through those roads
Because they're only, because they're only
Dead-end roads.
There are roads that lead
To only one direction
I choose that road
As the only solution.
Breaking mountains, cities
Changing the course of rivers
Descending to my mountain
Raising the sea to the rivers.
Making a long road,
Long until seeing tomorrow,
All this early land
That wants to rise
Tomorrow will wake up
Without seeing its bitter days.
Let's not cross, let's not cross
Through those roads
Because they're only, because they're only
Dead-end roads.
