Let it rain - Tracy Chapman
Let it rain
As I walk these streets unknown
To no one named
Not even myself
When I'm low
Give me hope
That help is coming
When I need it most
Give me hope
That help is coming
When I need it most
Let it go
No mother no father no home
Forget as all others
Have forgotten
When I'm alone
But give me hope
That help is coming
When I need it most
Give me hope
That help is coming
When I need it most
Let it come
Love that lifts me up
Pain that brings me down
Everything I'd ever want and don't
When I'm not strong
But give me hope
That help is coming
When I need it most
Give me hope
That help is coming
When I need it most
Let it rain
Let it flood these streets and wash me away
To where it makes no difference who I am
Or what the future holds
When I don't know
But give me hope
That help is coming
When I need it most
Give me hope
That help is coming
When I need it most
Let it rain
As I walk these streets unknown
To no one named
Not even myself
When I'm low
Give me hope
That help is coming
When I need it most
Give me hope
That help is coming
When I need it most
Let it go
No mother no father no home
Forget as all others
Have forgotten
When I'm alone
But give me hope
That help is coming
When I need it most
Give me hope
That help is coming
When I need it most
Let it come
Love that lifts me up
Pain that brings me down
Everything I'd ever want and don't
When I'm not strong
But give me hope
That help is coming
When I need it most
Give me hope
That help is coming
When I need it most
Let it rain
Let it flood these streets and wash me away
To where it makes no difference who I am
Or what the future holds
When I don't know
But give me hope
That help is coming
When I need it most
Give me hope
That help is coming
When I need it most
Un abrazo,
María*
María*
3 comentarios:
Se te ve feliz en aquel momento
Lo era
Llueve,detrás de los cristales, llueve y llueve
sobre los chopos medio deshojados,
sobre los pardos tejados,
sobre los campos, llueve…
Estos versos de la balada de otoño de Serrat describen bien la sensación del día de hoy. Hay un único protagonista: La Lluvia.
Y qué beneficiosa está siendo para los campos… Todavía no se forman charcos en muchos bancales, pero un importante riego ha sido ahorrado.
Pero también el color gris del día llama a la melancolía, al hogar.
Casi apetece estar con el brasero.
Pero llueve, esa fina lluvia ruidosa, incesante, bonita, benefactora.
Llévate el polvo, renueva nuestro aire, trae nuevas energías a cuerpos, montes, ramblas y campos…
Y llueve, pero sin truenos, ni rayos, que animales y niños se asustan. Y no es necesario asustarles.
Eres agua, origen de la vida y tu ciclo es milenario, es errante. Gotas que vienen de visitar el polo me riegan las plantas, otras gotas proceden del ecuador, muchas del pacífico que acabaron sus vacaciones y nos visitan a la Europa occidental en su imparable y eterno viaje
Un emisario de San Pedro
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