Los Placeres de La Pobreza
Héroes Del Silencio
The Pleasures of Poverty
The old age of the peoples of divine lineage
and their forgotten truths
the little diamond against the palm leaf
through the radio I trembled.
And pay with the currency of curiosity
in the supply of charas,
masturbation of questions just to hear
a whisper of silver thread.
Blinded by the voice of inexperience
we crawl without thinking.
On the back of the desert towards the caves,
the pilgrim's footprints will guide me.
My city was dead before being born,
unbridled thoroughbred.
I detest the lukewarm by vocation
and they say that by force they hang.
Blinded by the voice of inexperience
we crawl without thinking
on the back of the desert towards the caves,
the pilgrim's footprints will guide me.
No other heaven on earth
crossed the face of yes and no
leaving condemnation and chains
on the opposite side of reason.
And the pleasures of poverty have overcome
my mocked revolution.
The pleasures of poverty have overcome
my mocked revolution.
Blinded by the voice of inexperience
we crawl without thinking.
On the back of the desert towards the caves,
the pilgrim's footprints will guide me.
No other heaven on earth
crossed the face of yes and no
leaving condemnation and chains
on the opposite side of reason.
