Las Preguntitas a Dios
Chavela Vargas
The Little Questions to God
One day I asked:
Grandpa, where is god.
My grandpa got sad,
And said nothing to me.
My grandpa died in the fields,
Without prayer or confession.
And the Indians buried him,
With a cane flute and drum.
In time I asked:
Father, what do you know about god?
My father got serious
And said nothing to me.
My father died in the mine
Without a doctor or protection.
The boss's gold
Has the color of miner's blood!
My brother lives in the mountains
And doesn't know a flower.
Sweat, malaria, snakes,
The life of a lumberjack.
And let no one ask him
If he knows where god is.
Such an important man
Hasn't passed by his house.
I sing for the roads,
And when I'm in prison
I hear the voices of the people
Who sing better than me.
There's an issue on earth
More important than god.
And it's that no one spits blood
So that another may live better.
Does god watch over the poor?
Maybe yes, maybe no.
But it's certain that he has lunch
At the boss's table.
