Merilyn Sekova Vacuum Cleaner

aprilis butterfly ... Cheap

As the cicada

Maria Elena Walsh died yesterday. I met her because someone approached his music when I claimed my son baby sleeping songs. I moved myself whispering tender stories, like the diviner and the cow carnavalito rate studies or vidala. Then, out of curiosity, I found it a kind of poet-minstrel. And also to write poetry and compose songs for children, published a number of novels. Across the world, today fill tributes. Here perhaps timidly demos released through a beautiful song sung by many. Even today, if only occasionally, my nine year old son asks me to sing something to sleep, I find myself having forgotten all about my childhood. And he does not expect the aspirator, but the Jacaranda.

So many times I killed him,
many times I died, but I am here

resurrected. I thank

misery and hand with dagger
because it killed me so bad,
and kept singing.

Singing in the sun like the cicada
after a year under the ground, like survivor

returning from the war.

So many times I deleted, so
disappeared, my own funeral

was alone and crying. I
knotted handkerchief

but I forgot after that was not the only time, and returned
singing.

many times you were killed, resurrected
many, many nights spend

desperate.
At the time of the wreck
and the darkness

rescue someone to go singing.

As the cicada, 1972

lyrics María Elena Walsh, sing Renato Teixeira and Leon Gieco