El Payaso
Emilio José
The Clown
Clown of long life
Of many wide smiles
With a tin voice clown
Playing in the throat
Clown of a thousand colors
Clown of the apple
Clown from son to father
Joy of the night
Loneliness of the morning
The clown of my land
Has light of salt and sugar
Has seeds for eyes
And two stakes for legs
The clown of my town
Has a moon for a mouth
Has tired hands
And a guitar heart
Yellow for the days
Feet worn out at dawn
Ashen skin, copper skin
His body goes singing
The wind from his bowels
Carries the hunger of the poor
The rain of his silence
Bakes the bread of his north
The wine of his brothers
Is blue like his mother
Is green like his song
And red like his evenings
His tears are of grapes, his crying
His distances are of mules
His absences of charangos
From town to town his soul
The clown of my land
Has light of stone and song
Has time for hands
And his tears for tiredness
The clown of my town
Has the moon for a mouth
Has a new and serene sun
Voice of an old man and a boy
Yellow for the days
Feet worn out at dawn
Ashen skin, copper skin
His body goes singing
The wind from his bowels
Carries the hunger of the poor
The rain of his silence
Bakes the bread of his north
Yellow for the days
Feet worn out at dawn
Ashen skin, copper skin
His body goes singing
The wind from his bowels
Carries the hunger of the poor
The rain of his silence
Bakes the bread of his north
