Текст и перевод песни Clave de Barrio - Sabio Poeta

Sabio Poeta

Heme aquí... en este minúsculo oasis
Respirando este aire exquisito
En busca de un futuro ser
Huérfano de recuerdos
Y ya siento que lo encontré
Aunque me agobie la sed me abrazara la virtud
En ese momento vagare en su cielo falso y desierto... pero feliz...

Solo un poeta.

Ese día camine entre lluvias rapaces
Pero su viento conducía unas brisas voraces
Aun así desplace mi sendero
Porque no soy de rendirme si me degenero

El sol brillaba solo por su ausencia
Hasta ventanas hogareñas perdían transparencia
Aislaba ese frió y el dolor que aquel causaba
Sobre este resfrió mi garganta abrigaba

De pronto una figura poso sobre mi hombro
Y por un segundo quede en un profundo asombro
Era mi general pintado de verde
Hace mucho que no encuentro dinero que yo recuerde

Lo guarde sin pensarlo doble por un callejón
En este yacía una gran caja de cartón
Dentro de el se ocultaba un viejo hombre
De barba blanca larga y con una manta muy pobre

En mi pena le cedí lo que había hallado
Pues creí que no era mío y esto fuese un recado
Acepto muy amable y en su regocijo
Libremente se expreso y entre dientes el me dijo

Vuestro amor al prójimo es mal amor a tu persona
Cree ayudar sin ser ayudado no funciona
La humildad es la debilidad que se agazapa
Y la bondad turbia magia donde se solapa

No entendí su enseñanza pero estaba impactado
Su dictado hizo que me sintiera anonadado
Dilate mi pensar mientras lo observaba
Acariciar su barba y que algo murmuraba

Pero lo único que vi fue un cuaderno entre sus dedos
Que se aferraba a el como si tuviera miedos
No pude evitar preguntar que ocultaba
Quien era y porque la vida lo castigaba

Hijo aquel embrión que ensalza su propia mirada
Lo envuelve el oscuro sobre la misma nada
Su decir son inciertos entre sabiduría
No es castigo no saber que aquel rebosa de alegría

Esa fue su palabra tan libre como esclava
Entendí en el que eso era lo que yo pensaba
Sobre esa tormenta en un punto del planeta
Fue así como conocí al sabio poeta

El poder de la palabra otorga inteligencia
EEs evidencia cuando al bruto lo silencia
Es Simple Querer, Es Simple Aprender,
Solo al elixir del Sabio hay que Saberlo Beber

Debes entender que no hay Fuerza que la Destruya
Que el conocimiento inmaculado nunca se apabulla
Es Puro Placer ver crecer el saber
Y sentir que el alma nos Vuelve a Renacer

Me contó de su tiempo me mostró su diagrama
Y que ya hace mucho no disfruta una dama
Que el saber lo acompaña desde su primer comida
Y que no se alcanza aprender todo en esta vida

Señaló que al ser lo que soy hay que tener valor
Que cada frase refleja lo que siente el escritor
Donde hay amor hay odio y viceversa
Que solo el escribir de ambas te dispersa

Viajo por el mundo pero solo en un continente
Paseo por rumbos muertos manejando la mente
Escribió un libro no solo por placer
Remarco que lo hizo así habría mas para leer

Se que no todos leen y eso el lo sabia
Y aunque lean algo no seria una poesía
Pero no descansaría hasta lograr su ultima meta
Hallar una voz que dicte lo que fue ser un poeta

Mientras me disciplinaba respecto a su saber
Comenzó a hacerse tarde opaco el anochecer
Era tiempo de volver su suspiro terminaba
Pero entre dicha oración este me recitaba

Ansió que mi obra deje la mirada abierta
Y exultar aquella mente que no se despierta
Que antes del volar se dan los primeros pasos
Alas han de crecernos si ves soles en ocasos

Alabe su discurso porque estaba en lo cierto
Quien cree ser grande siendo un inexperto
Le otorgue mi abrigo porque tenia el pavor
De que el gélido invierno se mute agobiador

Así me despedí, volví y al día siguiente
Desperté y me vestí para saber del elocuente
Al llegar contemple un vació y una nota
Mi prenda doblegada y una pluma rota

Eyendo sorprendido los fragmentos de la carta
Decía has lo correcto cuando este astro parta
Seguido de renglones que marcaban bien su lema
Tu fuego me ha quemado enseñando lo que es poema

Ofrecí mi cantar sobre lo que me has contado
Este es mi regalo y con orgullo he promulgado
Mi interés es la lectura el escribir y el ser letrado
Reanima al espíritu que vivía fatigado

Para quienes un rumbo no seria rumbo si no se guía
Pero para otros una guía no seria guía si no hubiese rumbo

Wise Poet

Here I am... in this minuscule oasis
Breathing this exquisite air
In search of a future being
Orphan of memories
And I already feel that I have found it
Even if thirst overwhelms me, virtue will embrace me
At that moment I will wander in its false and deserted sky... but happy...

Just a poet.

That day I walk among swift rains
But its wind drove voracious breezes
Even so, I displaced my path
Because I am not one to give up if I degenerate

The sun shone only by its absence
Even home windows lost transparency
That cold isolated and the pain that it caused
Over this cold my throat sheltered

Suddenly a figure landed on my shoulder
And for a second I was in deep astonishment
It was my general painted green
It's been a long time since I've found any money that I remember

I kept it without thinking twice down an alley
In this lay a large cardboard box
Inside it was hiding an old man
With a long white beard and a very poor blanket

In my sorrow I gave him what I had found
For I believed it was not mine and this was a message
He accepted very kindly and in his rejoicing
He freely expressed himself and through his teeth he told me

Your love for your neighbor is bad love for yourself
Believing in helping without being helped does not work
Humility is the weakness that lurks
And goodness is a cloudy magic where it basks

I didn't understand his teaching but I was shocked
His dictation made me feel stunned
I dilated my thinking as I watched him
Caressing his beard and murmuring something

But all I saw was a notebook between his fingers
That he clung to as if he were afraid
I couldn't help but ask what he was hiding
Who he was and why life was punishing him

Son, that embryo that enhances its own gaze
It is enveloped by the darkness over the same nothingness
His sayings are uncertain between wisdom
It is not a punishment not to know that he overflows with joy

That was his word as free as a slave
I understood in him that this was what I thought
About that storm at one point on the planet
This is how I met the wise poet

The power of the word grants intelligence
It is evident when the brute is silenced
It's Simple to Want, It's Simple to Learn,
Only the Wise Man's elixir must be known to Drink

You must understand that there is no Force that Destroys it
That immaculate knowledge is never cowed
It is Pure Pleasure to see knowledge grow
And feel that our soul is Reborn

He told me about his time, he showed me his diagram
And that he hasn't enjoyed a lady in a long time
That knowledge has accompanied him since his first meal
And that you can't learn everything in this life

He pointed out that being what I am you have to have courage
That each phrase reflects what the writer feels
Where there is love there is hate and vice versa
That only writing both disperses you

I travel the world but only on one continent
I walk through dead paths driving the mind
He wrote a book not just for pleasure
He remarked that he did it that way there would be more to read

I know that not everyone reads and he knew that
And even if they read something it wouldn't be poetry
But he wouldn't rest until he achieved his last goal
Finding a voice to dictate what it was like to be a poet

As he disciplined me regarding his knowledge
It began to get late, dusk dimmed
It was time to return his sigh was ending
But among this prayer he recited to me

I long for my work to leave your eyes open
And exult that mind that does not awaken
That before flying the first steps are taken
Wings are to grow us if you see suns in sunsets

Praise his speech because he was right
Who thinks he is great being an expert
I gave him my coat because I was terrified
That the icy winter will become overwhelming

So I said goodbye, I went back and the next day
I woke up and got dressed to hear about the eloquent
Upon arriving I contemplated an empty space and a note
My garment folded and a broken pen

As I was surprised by the fragments of the letter
It said do the right thing when this star sets
Followed by lines that clearly marked his motto
Your fire has burned me teaching me what a poem is

I offered my song about what you have told me
This is my gift and I have proudly promulgated it
My interest is reading, writing and being literate
It revives the spirit that lived fatigued

For those for whom a course would not be a course without a guide
But for others a guide would not be a guide if there were no course