Sierras de los Comechingones, Argentina

Words and music: Silvio Rodriguez

This strange afternoon,
From my window,
Bring back the old breeze
In the morning.
There is nothing here:
Only days that are ready to go,
Only one afternoon when you can breathe
A tiny immense in living instantly.
After looking at reality and nothing else.
And nothing more.
Now it seems
I would have lived
A wealth of centuries
For old ways.
There is nothing here:
Only days that are ready to go,
Only one afternoon when you can breathe
A tiny immense in living instantly.
After looking at reality and nothing else.
And nothing more.