El abuelo [English translation]

Grandfather one day, when he was very young,

out there, in his Galicia, looked at the horizon and thought

that, perhaps, another path could exist.

And to the Northern wind, that was an old friend,

he talked about his haste, he showed him his hands

that, mild and strong, were empty.

And the wind told him, build up your life

behind the sea, out there, in his Galicia.

And grandfather one day, on an old boat

left Spain, grandfather one day,

like so many others, with so much hope.

The beloved image of his old village

and its mountains, he took along, engraved

very deeply in his soul, when the old boat

took him far away from Spain.

And grandfather one day, mounted

the 'build up your life' cart, grasped the plow

fertilized the soil, and time went on.

And calmly he fought to plant the tree

that he so badly wanted, and grandfather one day

cried under the tree that finally was blooming.

He cried happily when he saw his hands

that, a little bit older, were not empty.

And grandfather then, when I was a child,

talked to me of Spain, of the Northern wind,

of his old village, and of its mountains.

He liked so much to recollect the things

that he carried engraved very deeply in his soul

that some times, in silence, without saying a word,

he talked to me of Spain.

Grandfather, one day, when he was very old,

very far from Galicia, took my hand,

and I realized that he was already dying,

and, then, he told me with little strength

and even less rush: "Promise me, my son,

that to the old village you will go one day,

and you will tell the Northern wind, that

his old friend to a new land surrendered his life.

And grandfather, one day, went to sleep forever

without returning to Spain, grandfather one day

like so many others, with so much hope.

And, on time, I saw grandfather on the villages,

I saw him in the mountains, in every morning

and in every legend, along all paths

that I walked in Spain.