Leopoldo Silencio

Where the water from the stream is born
Leopoldo gathers absences from sunrise to sunset
Sweats without loves, salty verse
Aged his eyes and his illusion
Leopoldo has clouds in his hat
And the highlands hurry his heart

If the moon shines on him under the eaves
His tiredness throws him on a mattress
And a dream of bleats and tinkling
Wraps him like the smoke from his hearth

Who can hear the silences he keeps
And understand so many moons of absences in his soul

Leopoldo has clouds in his hat
And the highlands hurry his heart
And the highlands hurry his heart!