El Hombre Que Siempre Estuvo Ali
Es una historia que escribi sobre alguien,
de quien aprendi el verdadero valor del tesoro mas preciado que poseo,
mi tesoro de estar vivo.
Esta va por mi colega Mario,
un homenaje a su memoria y a su vida,
un hombre anomino como otros tantos,
lo veras pasar por la proxima avenida.
Aquella tarde en Junio hacia un sol asfixiante,
andaba solo y distante,nada interesante,
de repente vi aquel hombre perdido y sin direccion,
espiritu solitario ayudado por un baston.
Perdona soy ciego y creo que me he perdido,
tranquilo amigo,le dije,dime adonde vas que voy contigo,
se mostraba amable como en un juego,
recuerdo que me conto un buen chiste sobre un hombre ciego.
Me pillo de camino y le acompañe a su barrio,
me llamo Mario,voy por tu calle a diario,
trabajo por aqui cerca,mi hermano me trae en su moto,
al edificio de la ONCE ahi en Federico Soto.
Nuestro encuentro llevo a otro,la amistad surgio temprano,
quedamos algunas tardes de aquel calido verano,
entre cafes y tertulias me hablo de su esposa hijas,
las describia,sonreia y besaba su sortija.
Dijo que con la edad de Jesucristo en la cruz,
sintio disipar su vista pero jamas su inquietud,
su orientacion una leccion,su humor una bendicion,
la erotica Sharon Stone luce en su imaginacion.
Dentro de otra dimension por una enfermedad extraña,
jugo sus cartas y hoy sin mas se las apaña,
sin la suerte de otros,el temor que mas le daña,
haber olvidado el rostro de aquellos que le acompañan.
Mario superheroe anonimo al que nadie mira,
la gente cruza su paso y por no molestar le esquivan,
caminara seguro hasta que su alma se complete,
le veras pastar y caeras en la cuenta de que.
Asi es como la vida enseña,
miro mis problemas,mira tus problemas,que alma es grande,¿cual pequeña?,
el destino utiliza las maneras mas extrañas,
nos concede un futuro pero luego nos engaña.
Cuando menos lo esperas puede sucederte algo,
truncar tu rumbo,cambiar tus actos,
el arte de adaptarte y vivir,una leccion que aprendi,
cuando conoci al hombre que siempre estuvo alli.(x2)
The Man Who Was Always There
It's a story I wrote about someone,
from whom I learned the true value of the most precious treasure I have,
my treasure of being alive.
This one's for my buddy Mario,
a tribute to his memory and his life,
a man anonymous like so many others,
you'll see him pass by the next avenue.
That June afternoon under a suffocating sun,
I was walking alone and distant, nothing interesting,
suddenly I saw that lost man without direction,
a solitary spirit aided by a cane.
Excuse me, I'm blind and I think I'm lost,
relax, friend, I said, tell me where you're going and I'll go with you,
he was friendly as if in a game,
I remember he told me a good joke about a blind man.
He caught me on the way and I accompanied him to his neighborhood,
my name is Mario, I go down your street daily,
I work nearby, my brother brings me on his motorcycle,
to the ONCE building there on Federico Soto.
Our encounter led to another, friendship arose early,
we met some afternoons of that warm summer,
between coffees and conversations he told me about his wife and daughters,
he described them, smiled, and kissed his ring.
He said that at the age of Jesus on the cross,
he felt his sight dissipate but never his restlessness,
his guidance a lesson, his humor a blessing,
the erotic Sharon Stone shines in his imagination.
In another dimension due to a strange illness,
he played his cards and now he manages without more,
without the luck of others, the fear that harms him the most,
having forgotten the faces of those who accompany him.
Mario, an anonymous superhero that no one looks at,
people cross his path and avoid him to not bother,
he will walk confidently until his soul is complete,
you'll see him grazing and you'll realize that.
That's how life teaches,
I look at my problems, look at your problems, which soul is big, which small?,
destiny uses the strangest ways,
it grants us a future but then deceives us.
When you least expect it, something can happen to you,
alter your course, change your actions,
the art of adapting and living, a lesson I learned,
when I met the man who was always there. (x2)