"Cantares" Joan Manuel Serrat & Joaquin Sabina

Joan Manuel Serrat y Joaquin Sabina interpretan "Cantares" en un concierto en el Palacio de los Deportes en Madrid durante la gira "Dos Pajaros De Un Tiro" Letra: Todo pasa y todo queda pero lo nuestro es pasar, pasar haciendo caminos, caminos sobre la mar. Nunca persegui la gloria ni dejar en la memoria de los hombres mi cancion; yo amo los mundos sutiles, ingravidos y gentiles como pompas de jabon. Me gusta verlos pintarse se sol y grana, volar bajo el cielo azul, temblar subitamente y quebrarse... Nunca persegui la gloria. Caminante son tus huellas el camino y nada mas; caminante, no hay camino se hace camino al andar. Al andar se hace camino y al volver la vista atras se ve la senda que nunca se ha de volver a pisar. Caminante no hay camino sino estelas en la mar... Hace algun tiempo en ese lugar donde hoy los bosques se visten de espinos se oyo la voz de un poeta gritar "Caminante no hay camino, se hace camino al andar..." golpe a golpe, verso a verso... Murio el poeta lejos del hogar. Le cubre el polvo de un pais 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 Lyrics: Everything passes, and everything stays But our thing is to pass, To pass making pathways Pathways over the sea. I never pursued neither glory Nor leaving my song in men's memories. I love subtle worlds, Light and graceful like soap bubbles. I like to see them paint themselves Of sun and reds, Fly under the blue sky, Tremble and break. I never pursued glory Walker, the pathway is your footprints and nothing else. Walker, there is no pathway, Pathway is made when you walk. When you walk you make pathway, And when you turn your sight back you see the path That never will be treaded upon again. Walker, there is no pathway other than wake in the sea. Some time ago in that place Where the woods dress themselves with hawthorns The voice of a poet was heard shouting: Walker, there is no pathway, Pathway is made when you walk. Beat by beat, verse by verse. The poet died far away from his home. He is covered by the dust from a neighbor country. When he was going away he was seen crying. Walker, there is no pathway, Pathway is made when you walk. Beat by beat, verse by verse. When the linnet (bird) can't sing. When the poet is a pilgrim When praying is of no use: walker, there is no pathway Pathway is made when you walk. Beat by beat, verse by verse.

Channel: Music
Uploaded: December 22, 2007 at 6:34 am
Author: alcantara06

Length: 04:09
Rating: 4.95
Views: 56835

Tags: cantares  concierto  deportes  dos  joan  joaquin  madrid  manuel  pajaros  palacio  sabina  serrat  tiro  un  

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