November 29, 2022
Today The Poet celebrates his birthday.
In capital letters. In big.
The singer-songwriter. The one who spreads
his light across the entire planet.
Today The Prophet celebrates his birthday
of the best songs.
Today in every corner
he is seen guitar in hand.
Alone. Calm. Cuban.
Reaching other hearts.
Today The Poet celebrates his birthday
who saves other non-poets.
The father of Mau. Of Malva.
Of Silvito. Of Violeta.
Of Federico... The musical aesthete
enniurkicized.
Today November has lent him
its soft autumnal light.
Today is a fractal day:
Today Silvio is ensilvified.
Today "I give you a song"
to you who gave us so many.
Today, "hopefully" you are not sad,
cabin boy at "Playa Girón".
Today, let your "blue unicorn" lost
make its appearance.
Today your music is a nest
of devoted silviomaniacs.
Today Memory and Oblivion
are taking your photos.
For everything you have sung,
For everything you have composed,
For your indigestible silence
and your cry of outrage.
For your songs of the past.
For your "I more I give I".
For your domino effect
in so many generations,
today millions of us shout at you:
—Silvio Rodríguez! Silvio!
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