Quien Te Lo Iba a Decir
Valderramas
Who Would Have Told You
In your eyes olive groves dwell
of ashen earth is your throat
habitual dwelling of truths
that are only true if you sing them
Cicada of the misunderstood sidewalk
minstrel of incorrigible defeat
corner street guitar
care of sacristan terrible verse
Chorus
Who would have told you
twenty years before
soundtrack of passersby
from the Madrid metro mouths
Who would have told you
such a small thing
that Cibeles would get jealous
because you no longer sing there.
Don Quixote in a world of ambitious
scourge of established power
seeking Dulcinea del Toboso
flirts with Jimena on the way.
You could have been, I have no doubt
banker, president of the government
but you are incapable from a young age
to take even the pencil that is not yours.
Chorus
Gypsy who gives his talent
to causes that require poetry
weathervane that obeys a single wind
serene of street melancholy
Quevedo with Bob Dylan ways
inseparable friend of the moon
of chords and verses your fortune
caste and figure say what they say.
Chorus
In your eyes olive groves dwell
of ashen earth is your throat
habitual dwelling of truths
that are only true if you sing them
