Los Muertos

Bautizados y enterrados
En la misma pequeña iglesia
Hombres, mujeres y niños
Dentro de estas fotos viejas
Están muertos, sin embargo
Nos miran a los ojos y piensas
"Nos ven"

Está tierra que pisamos
Les ha visto levantarse
También les ha alimentado
Y ha saboreado su sangre
Me has agarrado del brazo
Somos lo que ellos fueron antes
Lo sé
Cuantas vidas olvidadas
Cuanto olor, cuantos amantes

Un judío tatuado
No puede ser enterrado
En un cementerio hebreo
Te oigo pero no te creo
Si es verdad eso que dices
Entran ganas de reírse
Lo sé

Si es verdad eso que dices
Este mundo es aún mas triste
Lo sé

It is late last night the dog was speaking of you
The snipe was speaking of you in her deep marsh
It is you are the lonely bird through the woods
And that you may be without a mate until you find me
You promised me, and you said a lie to me
That you would be before me where the sheep are flocked
I gave a whistle and three hundred cries to you
And I found nothing there but a bleating lamb
You promised me a thing that was hard for you
A ship of gold under a silver mast
Twelve towns with a market in all of them
And a fine white court by the side of the sea
You promised me a thing that is not possible
That you would give me gloves of the skin of a fish
That you would give me shoes of the skin of a bird
And a suit of the dearest silk in Ireland
My mother told me not to be talking with you today
Or tomorrow, or on the Sunday
It was a bad time she took for telling me that
It was shutting the door after the house was robbed
You have taken the east from me, you have taken the west from me
You have taken what is before me and what is behind me
You have taken the moon, you have taken the sun from me
And my fear is great that you have taken God from me!