He, who lives

 

He, who lives; is he, who leaves

but he, who runs; is he, who ends up crawling, ends up crawling.

And he, who wanders off the path of man is

He, who has as friends the moon and stars.

 

I don’t know what you are,

I was thinking a friend, a lover,

a sister, daughter,

I will follow; I’m not falling down.

 

She, who gives me love

is she who listens;

she, who hears me out

and she’s not walking out.

 

Now I know what you are,

You’re the one who releases me, believes me,

Hears me, holds me, fires me up and chills me;

understands this war inside and loves me, listen,

I will follow; I’m not falling down.

 

She, who gives me love

is she who listens,

she, who hears me howl

like only she knows how.

Copyright © Francisco Rebollo 2014