Todo El Día Llovió
El Ultimo De La Fila
All Day It Rained
All day it rained,
all night raining;
I want to be where you are,
call to the enchantment.
Let the wind whistle
I want to understand
in its voice
divine calls
from the sun.
Wings instead of hearts
may the spirit lift us
to the clouds.
Stop suffering;
not tender nor cruel
nor decrepit
in my essence of being.
Not to return to the open road.
Not to admit being marked.
If I use the strength of my heart
and spend my spirit to dream.
Let them lie to me
or tell me what's best.
May I know how to refuse their game.
The wind sweeps away what is uncertain and
life is the worst of the desert that is
life itself.
Not to return even as an angel.
Grind, fierce the brow.
Resound, whenever necessary,
at the gates of hell.
I refuse to believe what they say;
I don't want to take what they offer
