Y No Está Solo...
El es de una especie irreverente,
Que detesta la solidaridad.
Le gusta estremecerse en esa ciencia,
De darse todo, en contra de los demás.
Carga un gesto promedio,
Entre rudo y cordial,
Simula ser hombre de mundo,
Para humillar de local.
Se hamaca, esquiva el centro,
Pendula por la extremidad,
Y, en cuanto se queda quieto,
Se empieza a incomodar.
Cualquier indicio de brillo
Él cree que es superstición,
Con tal de no conectarse
Esquiva cualquier emoción.
Y no está solo, no está solo,
No está solito.
Buscando una ropa, una capa,
Una armadura celestial,
O algo que lo recubra,
Lo distinga de los demás.
Siempre y cuando lo esconda
De la mirada fatal:
¡no vaya a ser cosa que sepan
Que te puede llegar a engañar!
Camina entre cardos y espinas,
En hielo, o hirviente carbón
Y duerme en cama de clavos,
Disfruta de cualquier dolor.
Piquetes de ojo,
Rencores de toda la sociedad;
Sospecha que todo conspira
En contra de su vanidad.
Y no está solo, no está solo,
No está solito.
Tiene muchos... tiene muchos amiguitos.
Trata de mimetizarse
Con gente de otro color,
Se acerca a hormigas obreras
Para probar su cañón.
Cuando se arrima a ellos,
Humilde, como para ayudar,
Los mira como desde lejos,
Como si fueran de otro lugar.
De que vale su intransigencia,
De que le vale pelear
Contra las injusticias del mundo,
Contra toda la inseguridad.
De qué le valen sus armas,
La sugestión de su voz,
Si todos sabemos que esconden
Un pobre y débil corazón.
Y no está solo, no está solo,
No está solito.
Tiene muchos... tiene muchos soldaditos.
Por eso detesta el arte,
Delata otra realidad;
El caos, el dolor inmundo,
Que trae ilegalidad.
El corazón en la mano,
O la lengua en la piel,
O una conciencia transparente,
Que lo haga quererse querer.
Si al fin pudiera enjuiciarlo,
Lo haría con severidad,
Que se cargue encima, para siempre,
Como yo, su pena capital.
Pero, un día, un viejo sabio
Lo vio escondido en mi sombra
Y, aunque no tiene perdón,
Si lo mato a él, me muero yo
Si lo mato a él, me muero yo
Si lo mato a él, me muero yo
Y no estoy solo, no estoy solo,
No estoy solito.
Tengo muchos... tengo muchos amiguitos
And He's Not Alone...
He is of a irreverent kind,
Who detests solidarity.
He likes to shiver in that science,
Of giving everything, against others.
Carries an average gesture,
Between rough and cordial,
Pretends to be a man of the world,
To humiliate locally.
He swings, avoids the center,
Swings by the extremity,
And as soon as he stays still,
He starts to feel uncomfortable.
Any sign of brightness
He believes is superstition,
As long as he doesn't connect
Avoids any emotion.
And he's not alone, he's not alone,
He's not all alone.
Looking for a clothing, a cape,
A celestial armor,
Or something to cover him,
Distinguish him from others.
As long as it hides him
From the fatal gaze:
Don't let them know
That he can deceive you!
He walks among thorns and thistles,
On ice, or scorching coal
And sleeps on a bed of nails,
Enjoys any pain.
Eye pricks,
Resentments of all society;
He suspects that everything conspires
Against his vanity.
And he's not alone, he's not alone,
He's not all alone.
He has many... he has many little friends.
He tries to blend in
With people of another color,
Approaches worker ants
To test his cannon.
When he approaches them,
Humble, as if to help,
He looks at them from afar,
As if they were from another place.
What's the use of his intransigence,
What's the use of fighting
Against the injustices of the world,
Against all insecurity.
What's the use of his weapons,
The suggestion of his voice,
If we all know they hide
A poor and weak heart.
And he's not alone, he's not alone,
He's not all alone.
He has many... he has many little soldiers.
That's why he detests art,
Reveals another reality;
Chaos, filthy pain,
That brings illegality.
The heart in the hand,
Or the tongue on the skin,
Or a transparent conscience,
That makes him want to be loved.
If I could finally judge him,
I would do it severely,
Let him carry it on himself, forever,
Like I do, his capital punishment.
But, one day, an old wise man
Saw him hidden in my shadow
And, although he's unforgivable,
If I kill him, I die
If I kill him, I die
If I kill him, I die
And I'm not alone, I'm not alone,
I'm not all alone.
I have many... I have many little friends