Oh Qué Será?

I believe in many things I haven't seen, and you do too, I know
One cannot deny the existence of something felt, no matter how ethereal it is
There's no need to show proof of decency for that which is so true
The only gesture is to believe or not
Sometimes, even believing while weeping
This is an incomplete theme, because it lacks an answer
An answer that one of you, perhaps, might be able to give

It is a theme in technicolor to make something useful out of love
For all of us, amen

Oh, what could it be, what could it be
That goes around sighing through the bedrooms
That is heard whispering in verses of song
That goes around weaving us into crazy questions

That is in people's heads, it's on their lips
That goes around rising through so many hollows
That people are talking loudly about in the cellar
And shouts in the market: What thing is that?

It's nature, perhaps, what could it be
That has no certainty and never gives you any
That has no concept and never will
That has no size

Oh, what could it be, what could it be
That lives in the ideas of those lovers
That the most delirious poets sing
That the drunken prophets swear by

It's in the pilgrimage of the broken
It's in the fantasy of the unhappy
It's in the daily lives of the harlots
And all the bandits and the helpless

In all of its senses, perhaps, what could it be
That has no decency and never will
That has no censorship and never will
And lacks all meaning

Oh, what could it be, what could it be
That no warning will be able to avoid
That even the prisoners cannot defy
That all paths will have to cross

Where all the signs will be consecrated
And all the little children will investigate
And all the destinies will be found
And even the Eternal Father, who never went there

Man, once again, they will bless
Extinguishing, in hell, its final flame
Because there's no point in wandering again
Through a lack of judgment

Oh, what could it be
Oh, what could it be
Oh, what could it be

What the prophet swears, the poet sings
And they are shouting in the streets
Oh, what could it be (oh, what could it be)

That wakes me up at night
And makes me tremble, makes me cry
(Oh, what could it be)

They are ghosts, we are ghosts
I feel the door being knocked three times
Oh, who could it be (oh, what could it be)

They go sighing through the bedrooms
And whispering verses of song
Start listening!

(Oh, what could it be)
It has no size and it is nature
It's on people's lips and in their heads

(Oh, what could it be)
All the little children will investigate it
And no warning will be able to avoid it

(Oh, what could it be)
In every bell it will ring out
And he who is sleeping will wake up

(Oh, what could it be)
They are ghosts, we are ghosts
I feel the door being knocked three times
Oh, what could it be