Me Llamarán

They will call me, they will call us all.
You, and you, and me, we will take turns,
in glass turns, facing death.
And they will expose you, we will all expose ourselves
to be shattered by a bullet, bam!

You know it well. They will come
for you, for you, for me, for everyone
And also
for you.
(Here
not even god is saved. They murdered him.)

It is written. Your name is already ready,
trembling on a paper. The one that says:
abel, abel, abel ... or me, you, him ...

But you, Sancho Town,
pronounce wide syllables,
permanent words that the wind does not carry...