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Have Mercy on Him, Lord

Pappo

Apiádate de Él, Señor

Transitan el cemento,
miles de personas ya;
un nuevo día se ha iniciado,
tampoco hoy te reconocerán.

Estarás nuevamente,
en Suipacha y la peatonal;
tus pies, aunque con zapatos,
más abrigo reclamarán.

"Diarios", gritarás, "Diarios".

Hay muchos que ni te miran,
hay otros que dicen "no, no";
sólo hay pocos que dicen:
"Apiádate de él, señor".

"Diarios", gritarás, "Diarios".

Have Mercy on Him, Lord

They walk on the pavement,
millions of people now;
a new day has begun,
today they won't recognize you either.

You'll be there again,
in Suipacha and the pedestrian street;
your feet, even in shoes,
will still crave more warmth.

"Papers!" you'll shout, "Papers!"

There are many who don’t even look at you,
there are others who say, "no, no";
only a few will say:
"Have mercy on him, Lord."

"Papers!" you'll shout, "Papers!"

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