Let the one who knows it all not come to listen to me,
let him not come to listen to me.
I have always sung for whoever has wished to learn
because I still learn from whoever listens to me,
from whoever silences me or doesn't listen,
that's why I say:
let the one who knows it all
not come to listen to me,
not come to listen to me.
Desire and hope,
unaccepted defeat,
the doubt of knowing everything,
well earned happiness,
the sadness of a time sick
with forced hypocrisy
that we want quite different,
is what I sing about.
Let the one who knows it all
not come to listen to me,
not come to listen to me.
A sure cry and a few nuances,
poems by old poets,
one love still alive,
a lot of built up rage
in the necessary fight
against the immense mattress
that they want to put on top of us,
is what I sing about.
Let the one who knows it all
not come to listen to me,
not come to listen to me.
The daily disaster that drags on
for years and years,
the slowness of recovery
and those who fall on the way,
the badly aimed shots
and, why not say so too,
a faith, a great faith
in certain people,
is what I sing about.
Let the one who knows it all,
not come to listen to me,
not come to listen to me.
El cantautor y poeta extremeño Pablo Guerrero, autor de A cántaros, murió a los 78 años en Madrid tras una larga enfermedad; su obra unió canción, poesía y compromiso político durante más de medio siglo.
En un Palau Sant Jordi abarrotado, Joaquín Sabina se despidió de Barcelona con un concierto que fue al mismo tiempo un inventario de vida y un abrazo multitudinario a través de veintidós canciones que, tras más de medio siglo de carrera, ya no le pertenecen solo a él.