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Ya conocéis mi torpe aliño indumentario; más recibí la flecha que me asignó Cupido y amé cuanto ellas pueden tener de hospitalario. Pero mi verso brota de un manantial sereno; y más que un hombre al uso que sabe su doctrina, soy en el buen sentido de la palabra: bueno. Desdeño las romanzas de los tenores, tenores huecos. A distinguir me paro yo, las voces de los ecos. Quien habla solo, espera hablar a Dios un día. Este es mi soliloquio, este es mi buen amigo, que me enseñó el secreto de la filantropía. Y cuando llegue el día del último viaje y esté al partir la nave que nunca ha de tornar, me encontraréis a bordo, ligero de equipaje. Seré yo, aquel que corte viejas rosas del huerto; más no amo los afeites de la actual cosmética.


You already know my clumsy dressing / but I received the arrow that Cupido assigned me and I (愛) how much they can have of hospitable. But my verse springs from a serene fount / And more than a man to the use that knows his doctrine / I am in the good sense of the word: good. I dislike the tenor's romances / Hollow tenors. I stop to distinguish the voices and the echoes. Who speaks alone expects to speak to God one day. This is my soliloquy / This is my good friend / Who taught me the secret of philanthropy. And when the day of the last trip arrives / And the ship that is never to return is about to leave / You will find me aboard / With light luggage. I'll be the one to cut old roses from the orchard / But I don't (愛) the shaves of the current cosmetic.

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from R​é​quiem por Manos Unidas, released February 14, 2012

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