La pucha con el hombre (part. Mex Urtizberea)

A man is born and dies sometimes without living
He walks from a child to an old man without enjoying
What he himself calls happiness
If he has it here, he'll look for it over there
He stumbles so many times on the same damn stone
Fruits he passes by without ripening

If he has a sharp edge, he wants to have even more
It's a mystery, and it's the salt of life
He has the soul of a guitar
Strung with stars
And his heart is a damn shame

He only differs from the animal kingdom
Because man is the only one capable of hate
But as long as man
Is amazed, cries, and laughs
It will be the fantasy that God created

It's a child's tear and a curl
It's dense forest, a song, life, and a spring
He's very capable of giving life or taking it
He's light and shadow, plowed land, and sandy beach

Damn man
Wanting to be so many things
And never more than when he's just himself

It's a path he walks alone under the Sun
A trail worn by dreams of love
He's an old leatherworker
Swinging like a monkey
With a tune of sad wine and carnival

He only differs from the animal kingdom
Because man is the only one capable of hate
But as long as man
Is amazed, cries, and laughs
It will be the fantasy that God created