Canción de Navidad

The end of the year smells like shopping,
congratulations and postcards
with vows of renewal;
and I, who know of the other world
that asks for life in the doorways,
I set out to write a song.
The people seem to agree,
marvelously everything
seems in tune when celebrating.
Some celebrate their millions,
others their clean shirt
and there are those who don't know what to toast.

My song is not about the sky,
the stars, the moon,
because I give it to you,
who have none.

My song is not only
for those who can hear it,
because sometimes the deaf
have more to love it.

Having is not a sign of evil
and not having is not proof
to accompany virtue;
but the one who is born well-off,
in seeking what he desires
doesn't have to compromise health.

That's why I sing to those who don't listen,
to those who aren't allowed to listen to me,
to those who never listened to me:
to those whose daily struggle
gives me reasons to love them:
to those whom no one sang to.
My song is not about the sky,
the stars, the moon,
because I give it to you,
who have none.

My song is not only
for those who can hear it,
because sometimes the deaf
have more to love it.