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The Mace

Silvio Rodriguez

La Maza

Si no creyera en la locura
De la garganta del sinsonte
Si no creyera que en el monte
Se esconde el trino y la pavura

Si no creyera en la balanza
En la razón del equilibrio
Si no creyera en el delirio
Si no creyera en la esperanza

Si no creyera en lo que agencio
Si no creyera en mi camino
Si no creyera en mi sonido
Si no creyera en mi silencio

¿Qué cosa fuera
Qué cosa fuera la maza sin cantera?
Un amasijo hecho de cuerdas y tendones
Un revoltijo de carne con madera
Un instrumento sin mejores resplandores
Que lucecitas montadas para escena

¿Qué cosa fuera, corazón, qué cosa fuera
Qué cosa fuera la maza sin cantera?
Un testaferro del traidor de los aplausos
Un servidor de pasado en copa nueva
Un eternizador de dioses del ocaso
Júbilo hervido con trapo y lentejuela

¿Qué cosa fuera, corazón, qué cosa fuera
Qué cosa fuera la maza sin cantera?
¿Qué cosa fuera, corazón, qué cosa fuera
Qué cosa fuera la maza sin cantera?

Si no creyera en lo más duro
Si no creyera en el deseo
Si no creyera en lo que creo
Si no creyera en algo puro

Si no creyera en cada herida
Si no creyera en la que ronde
Si no creyera en lo que esconde
Hacerse hermano de la vida

Si no creyera en quien me escucha
Si no creyera en lo que duele
Si no creyera en lo que quede
Si no creyera en los que luchan

¿Qué cosa fuera
Qué cosa fuera la maza sin cantera?
Un amasijo hecho de cuerdas y tendones
Un revoltijo de carne con madera
Un instrumento sin mejores resplandores
Que lucecitas montadas para escena

¿Qué cosa fuera, corazón, qué cosa fuera
Qué cosa fuera la maza sin cantera?
Un testaferro del traidor de los aplausos
Un servidor de pasado en copa nueva
Un eternizador de dioses del ocaso
Júbilo hervido con trapo y lentejuela

¿Qué cosa fuera, corazón, qué cosa fuera
Qué cosa fuera la maza sin cantera?
¿Qué cosa fuera, corazón, qué cosa fuera
Qué cosa fuera la maza sin cantera?

The Mace

If I didn't believe in the madness
Of the mockingbird's throat
If I didn't believe that in the hills
The song and the fear are hidden

If I didn't believe in the balance
In the reason of equilibrium
If I didn't believe in delirium
If I didn't believe in hope

If I didn't believe in what I manage
If I didn't believe in my path
If I didn't believe in my sound
If I didn't believe in my silence

What would it be
What would the mace be without its quarry?
A jumble made of strings and tendons
A mix of flesh with wood
An instrument with no better shine
Than little lights set up for a show

What would it be, my heart, what would it be
What would the mace be without its quarry?
A front for the traitor of applause
A servant of the past in a new cup
An eternalizer of gods of the dusk
Joy boiled with rags and sequins

What would it be, my heart, what would it be
What would the mace be without its quarry?
What would it be, my heart, what would it be
What would the mace be without its quarry?

If I didn't believe in the hardest
If I didn't believe in desire
If I didn't believe in what I believe
If I didn't believe in something pure

If I didn't believe in every wound
If I didn't believe in the one that lingers
If I didn't believe in what it hides
Becoming a brother to life

If I didn't believe in who listens to me
If I didn't believe in what hurts
If I didn't believe in what remains
If I didn't believe in those who fight

What would it be
What would the mace be without its quarry?
A jumble made of strings and tendons
A mix of flesh with wood
An instrument with no better shine
Than little lights set up for a show

What would it be, my heart, what would it be
What would the mace be without its quarry?
A front for the traitor of applause
A servant of the past in a new cup
An eternalizer of gods of the dusk
Joy boiled with rags and sequins

What would it be, my heart, what would it be
What would the mace be without its quarry?
What would it be, my heart, what would it be
What would the mace be without its quarry?

Escrita por: Silvio Rodríguez