Victor Jara
Miscellaneous
The Plow
I firmly tighten my hand,
and I sink the guillemot into the earth
I have been in it for years How can I not be exhausted?
I tighten my hand firmly
and I sink the guillemot into the ground
I've been in it for years
How can I not be exhausted?
Butterflies fly, crickets sing
My skin turns black
and the sun shines, shines and shines
The sweat makes me grooves,
I make grooves in the earth without stopping
Butterflies fly, crickets sing
My skin turns black
and the sun shines, shines and shines
The sweat makes me grooves,
I make grooves in the land without stopping
I affirm hope well
when I think of the other star
it is never too late she tells me
the dove will fly
I affirm hope well
when I think of the other star
it is never too late she tells me
the dove will fly
Butterflies fly, crickets sing
my skin turns black
and the sun, shine, shine and shine
And in the afternoon when I return,
a star appears in the sky
it is never too late she tells me
the dove will fly, fly, will fly
How a yoke is tightened
I have a hopeful fist
because everything will change...