Por Pedir Pedí - Antonio Orozco, Mario Domm

Hoy pedí prestada una libreta donde escribir

Para decir: «Pedir»

Pedí palabras que aún no estaban inventadas

Para tocar pedir

Las manos que saque de entre dos aguas

La voz del que en la isla nos callaba

Pedí el atrevimiento de una loca y por pedir, pedí, pedí

Que nadie como yo entienda tus maneras cuando hablen

Ni sepa más que yo de tus detalles

Que tu único consuelo sea mirarme

Y que sepas de una vez que antes que nadie

Yo soy el prisionero de tus carnes

Y por pedir, pedí

Pedí la fe del que rezaba

El amor de aquel que no olvidaba

Pedí el valor, del que solo le queda esperanza

Pedí la gloria del que espera en las trincheras

Para llorar, pedí

La lagrima que inunda los desiertos

La tinta de Antonio Gala

Pedí el recibimiento de mi almohada

Y por pedir, pedí, pedí

Que nadie como yo entienda tus maneras cuando hablen

Ni sepa más que yo de tus detalles

Que tu único consuelo sea mirarme

Y que sepas de una vez que antes que nadie

Yo soy el prisionero de tus carnes

Y por pedir, pedí

Por pedir, pedí

¡No!

Y nadie (Nadie) entienda tus maneras cuando hablen

Ni sepa más que yo de tus detalles

Que tu único consuelo sea mirarme

Y que sepas de una vez que antes que nadie

Yo soy el prisionero de tus carnes

Y por pedir, pedí

Today I borrowed a notebook to write

To say: "Ask"

I asked for words that were not yet invented

to play ask

The hands that I pull out from between two waters

The voice of the one who silenced us on the island

I asked for the audacity of a crazy woman and for asking, I asked, I asked

Let no one like me understand your ways when they speak

I don't even know more about your details than I do

May your only consolation be to look at me

And that you know once and for all that before anyone else

I am the prisoner of your meat

And for asking, I asked

I asked for the faith of the one who prayed

The love of the one who did not forget

I asked for courage, of which only hope remains

I asked for the glory of the one who waits in the trenches

To cry, I asked

The tear that floods the deserts

Antonio Gala's ink

I requested the reception of my pillow

And for asking, I asked, I asked

Let no one like me understand your ways when they speak

I don't even know more about your details than I do

May your only consolation be to look at me

And that you know once and for all that before anyone else

I am the prisoner of your meat

And for asking, I asked

for asking, I asked

Do not!

And no one (No one) understands your ways when they speak

I don't even know more about your details than I do

May your only consolation be to look at me

And that you know once and for all that before anyone else

I am the prisoner of your meat

And for asking, I asked