Juan Que No Existe
La tierra que era de Juan
Ya no es de Juan ni de Pedro
El agua del manantial
Ni la sombras de los cerros.
Si embargo ahi vive Juan
Casi mejor vive un perro
Con una bolsa de harina
Se pasa todo el invierno.
Roja la tarde por los cohirones
Desnuda el vientre del cañadon
La sombra apenas de aquel tehuelche
Se vuelve polvo camino al sol.
Ahi anda buscando Juan
Desde el fondo del olvido
Alguien que pueda decir
Que alguna vez ha nacido.
Sin embargo no hallara
Su esperanzado testigo
A quien le puede importar
Los documentos de un indio.
Bincha en la frente lleva Juan goke
Y alguna espina en el corazon
No baja al pueblo por que no existe
Para los dueños de la razon.
La huella que era de Juan
Como guanaco en invierno
Se perdio en el pedregal
Junto a la fe de su pueblo.
Sin enbargo ahi anda Juan
Mejor andaria muerto
Desde sus ojos la sal
Le sala todo el decierto.
Pregunta el viento donde esta el hombre
Sin documentos y sin perdon
Dueño del hambre dueño del viento
Si hasta en su sombra siente dolor.
Ahora ya es tiempo de hacer
Por tantos Juanes ausentes
Como la roca en el pie
El que trpieza la siente.
Ojala que alcanze Juan
Con tantos años al frente
Al saber que es uno mas
Uno mas entre la gente.
Roja la tarde por los cohirones
Desnuda el vientre del cañadon
La sombra apenas de aquel tehuelche
Se vuelve polvo camino al sol...
Camino al sol ....camino al sol ....camino al sol...
Juan Who Doesn't Exist
The land that belonged to Juan
Is no longer Juan's or Pedro's
The water from the spring
Nor the shadows of the hills
However, Juan lives there
Almost better off is a dog
With a bag of flour
He spends the whole winter
Red the evening by the cohirones
Bare the belly of the ravine
The barely shadow of that Tehuelche
Turns to dust on the way to the sun
There goes Juan looking
From the depths of oblivion
For someone who can say
That he was born once
However, he will not find
His hopeful witness
Who cares
About the documents of an Indian
Juan Goke wears a band on his forehead
And some thorn in his heart
He doesn't go down to the town because he doesn't exist
For the owners of reason
The trail that belonged to Juan
Like a guanaco in winter
Got lost in the rocky ground
Along with the faith of his people
However, Juan walks there
He would be better off dead
From his eyes the salt
Covers the entire desert
The wind asks where the man is
Without documents and without forgiveness
Owner of hunger, owner of the wind
Even in his shadow he feels pain
Now is the time to act
For so many absent Juans
Like a rock in the foot
The one who stumbles feels it
Hopefully Juan reaches
With so many years ahead
To know that he is just one more
One more among the people
Red the evening by the cohirones
Bare the belly of the ravine
The barely shadow of that Tehuelche
Turns to dust on the way to the sun...
On the way to the sun... on the way to the sun... on the way to the sun...