The Hardest Way Of Learning Is That

Maybe Someone Will Know I Didn't Weave Crowns To Draw Blood; That I Faught Against Mockery; That I Did Fill The High Tide Of My Soul With Truth. I Repaid Vileness With Doves.

Only Do Not Forget, If I Wake Up Crying It's Only Because In My Dream I'm A Lost Child Hunting Through The Leaves Of The Night For Your Hands.

Donde Termina El Arco Iris, En Tu Alma O En El Horizonte? Where Does The Rainbow End, In Your Soul Or On The Horizon?

I Stroll Along Serenely, With My Eyes, My Shoes, My Rage, Forgetting Everything.

Nobody Can Claim The Name Of Pedro, Nobody Is Rosa Or María, All Of Us Are Dust Or Sand, All Of Us Are Rain Under Rain. They Have Spoken To Me Of Venezuelas, Of Chiles And Paraguays; I Have No Idea What They Are Saying. I Know Only The Skin Of The Earth And I Know It Has No Name.