A Víctor
No puede borrarse el canto
con sangre del buen cantor
después que ha silbado el aire
los tonos de su canción.
Los pájaros llevan notas
a casa del trovador;
tendrán que matar el viento
que dice lucha y amor.
Tendrán que callar el río,
tendrán que secar el mar
que inspiran y dan al hombre
motivos para cantar.
No puede borrarse el canto
con sangre del buen cantor,
tendrán que matar el viento
que dice lucha y amor.
Tendrán que callar el río,
tendrán que secar el mar
que inspiran y dan al hombre
motivos para cantar.
Tendrán que parar la lluvia,
tendrán que apagar el sol,
tendrán que matar el canto
para que olviden tu voz.
To Víctor
The song cannot be erased
with the blood of the good singer
after he has whistled the air
the tones of his song.
The birds carry notes
to the troubadour's house;
they will have to kill the wind
that speaks of struggle and love.
They will have to silence the river,
they will have to dry up the sea
that inspire and give man
reasons to sing.
The song cannot be erased
with the blood of the good singer,
they will have to kill the wind
that speaks of struggle and love.
They will have to silence the river,
they will have to dry up the sea
that inspire and give man
reasons to sing.
They will have to stop the rain,
they will have to extinguish the sun,
they will have to kill the song
to make them forget your voice.