Décimas a Jacinto Luna

(Milonga)

Version by Alfredo Zitarrosa:
Don't ask where I'm from,
I come from the peasant time,
and not even the same paths
imagine where I'm going;
I go up in time and I'm
content with my destiny,
walking alone and pilgrim,
sleeping on my claws,
and waking up guitars
on the edge of the road.

Without a knife on my belt
or a lasso tied to the reins,
I bring a tremor that the winds
left in my strings,
and a sorrow in the mournful ones
that don't take flight,
because the rigor of the spur
keeps it tied to my trail,
otherwise, they would already be stars
shining from the sky.

I no longer have a preference
and the leagues don't scare me,
because there is no payment
for those who sing
more valuable than absence;
nothing ties me to existence,
I am dying at a slow pace
and, sometimes, I get lost
behind the red horizons,
with a mist in my eyes
and chased by memories.

They have thrown in the fire
twigs of mataojo,
thorns in the stubble,
pain in the heart;
and I go with this song
on the lips of a wound,
so that at the end of my life
my song remains awake,
because every dead firefly
leaves a light on.