El olor a leña, Boby

(Song)

The smell of firewood, Boby
makes you suffer.
Wood that dreams, Boby
grown here, in your land.

The square log, Boby
is the same age as me.
It was a window tied
to the lime wall, and there it is...

Did you see how sweet it smells,
how well it burns;
dry and painted it smells
of the time that was.

Maybe the log feels pain
seeing itself die;
the fire loves it and grinds it,
it turns it gray.

I know that in your flesh eats
the old pain,
a raging fire that imposes
death and love.

The square log, Boby
is your age.
It was a window tied
to the lime wall, and there it is...

May the smell of firewood, Boby
make you happy,
it's just smoke that dreams it,
gray black and gray.

I want you to love yourself, Boby
and this song
would be better if it had
your faithful heart.

Come back to my place, Boby
because I will have
more fire and more embers, Boby
burning, leaving
and smelling good.