Los Buitres
Walter Olmos
The Vultures
He dreamed of that story of fantasies
of past glories but not with a
happy ending, he sang with such strength that
the winds of life scattered
the simplicities of his loneliness.
My God help him, don't let the vultures
cling to his flesh, feeding
their pockets with his first and last name
let him go, let him go from their
talons so his soul can rest in peace
my mother help him, don't feed the vultures
who fill their pockets with his
first and last name
I beg you please let him reach God.
There was someone who wrote about him more than just a simple poem
the legend of his life so fleeting and sharp
the applause of the people and the thump thump of
his quartets that are pure feelings, how I will miss him.
My God help him, don't let the vultures
cling to his flesh, feeding
their pockets with his first and last name
let him go, let him go from their
talons so his soul can rest in peace
my mother help him, don't feed the vultures
who fill their pockets with his
first and last name
I beg you please let him reach God.
