Joan Manuel Serrat "Cantares" lyrics

Translation to:enfrheit

Cantares

Todo pasa y todo queda,pero lo nuestro es pasar,pasar haciendo caminos,caminos sobre la mar.

Nunca perseguí la gloria,ni dejar en la memoriade los hombres mi canción;yo amo los mundos sutiles,ingrávidos y gentilescomo pompas de jabón.Me gusta verlos pintarsede sol y grana, volarbajo el cielo azul, temblarsúbitamente y quebrarse.

Caminante, son tus huellasel camino, y nada más;caminante, no hay camino,se hace camino al andar.Al andar se hace camino,y al volver la vista atrásse ve la senda que nuncase ha de volver a pisar.Caminante, no hay camino,sino estelas en la mar.

Hace algún tiempo, en ese lugardonde hoy los bosques se visten de espinos,se oyó la voz de un poeta gritar:caminante, no hay camino,se hace camino al andar,golpe a golpe, verso a verso.

Murió el poeta lejos del hogar,le cubre el polvo de un país vecino.Al alejarse le vieron llorar,caminante, no hay camino,se hace camino al andar,golpe a golpe, verso a verso.

Cuando el jilguero no puede cantar,cuando el poeta es un peregrino,cuando de nada nos sirve rezar,caminante, no hay camino,se hace camino al andar,golpe a golpe, verso a verso.

Singings

Everything passes and everything stays,but our thing is passing,passing making paths,paths over the sea.

I never pursued glory,nor leaving in the memoryof men my song;I love subtle worlds,gravityless and gentilelike soap bubbles.I like to watch them paint themselvesof sun and garnet, flyunder the blue sky, trembleall of a sudden and crumble.

Walker, your footprints arethe path, and nothing more;walker, there is no path,the path is made while walking.By walking a path is made,And by returning your sight backyou see the path that is neverto be step on again.Walker, there is no path,but trails on the sea.

Some time ago, in that placewhere today the forests dress themselves of Pine,the voice of a poet shouting was heard:Walker, there is no path,the path is made while walking,stroke by stroke , verse by verse.

The poet died far from his home,The dust of a neighboring country covers him.While distancing himself they saw him crying,walker, there is no path,the path is made while walking,stroke by stroke , verse by verse.

When the goldfinch cannot sing,when the poet is a pilgrim,when praying gives us no use,walker, there is no path,the path is made by walking,stroke by stroke , verse by verse.

Here one can find the English lyrics of the song Cantares by Joan Manuel Serrat. Or Cantares poem lyrics. Joan Manuel Serrat Cantares text in English. This page also contains a translation, and Cantares meaning.