Silvio Rodríguez - Historia de las sillas (English translation)
Story of the Chairs
At the edge of the road there is a chair,
thievery prowls around that place.
The friend's coat is laid aside,
the friend does not sit down to rest.
His shoes, worn down, are mirrors
that burn his throat with the sun.1
And through his fatigue an old man goes by
who dries, with the shade, the sweat.
At the tip of love the friend travels,
to the sharpest point that there is to see.
That same point that digs into the ground,
into the ruins, into a woman's trail.
That is why he is a soldier and a lover,
that is why he is wood and he is metal.
That is why the same one plants roses,
as well as reasons for flags and arsenal.
The one who has a song will have a storm
The one who has company, loneliness.
The one who follows a good path will have
dangerous chairs that invite him to stop.
But the song is worth a good storm,
and the company is worth the loneliness.
The agony of haste is always worth it,
even if the truth is filled with chairs.
- 1. shoes that reflect the sun is a metaphor for saying he is thirsty