Silvio Rodríguez Domínguez (born 29 November 1946) is
a Cuban musician, and leader of the Nueva Trova movement.
He is widely considered as Cuba's best folk singer and
arguably one of Latin America's greatest singer-songwriters. Known for his
intellectual, highly eloquent and symbolic lyrics, his songs are iconic
elements of Latin American left-leaning popular culture. Many of his songs have
become classics in Latin American music, such as "Ojalá", "Playa
Girón", "Unicornio", "Sueño con Serpientes",
"Vamos a andar," and "La maza". He has released over 20 albums.
Rodríguez, musically and politically, is a symbol of the
Latin American left. His lyrics are notably introspective, while his songs
combine romanticism, eroticism, existentialism, revolutionary politics and
idealism. As a humanist, his songs often bespeak a secular worldview, where
humanity must make the best of this world.
Silvio Rodríguez has been denied a United States visa
several times, and it was particularly controversial in 2009 when he was
invited to celebrate the 90th birthday of Pete Seeger. However, in 2010, he
obtained a visa and performed at venues in Puerto Rico (30 May), New York (4
and 10 June), Oakland, (12 June), Los Angeles (17 June), Washington, D.C. (19
June) and Orlando (23 June). These were his first appearances in the United
States in 30 years.
Source: Wikepedia
From Cuba
Tú, sentada en una silla
yo, de pie con expresión de loor.
Tú, desnuda y con sombrilla
yo, vestido pero con calor.
Tú, con uñas y con dientes,
mirándome de frente,
con brillo de matar.
Yo, retrocediendo un poco,
llenándome de un loco,
deseo de sangrar.
Tú, besando tus rodillas,
yo, discreto, pero sin rubor.
Tú, creando maravillas
yo, soñándome esquimal sin sol.
Tú, con un ritmo tan lento
buscando un alimento
frotado con alcohol.
Yo, de pronto ensimismado,
mirándote alelado
colmada de licor.
Tú, ardiente y sin capilla
yo, quitándome el sombrero alón.
Tú, dispuesta la vajilla
yo, al filo de mi pantalón.
Yo, a punto del delirio
extraigo un solo cirio
que poso ante tu flor.
Tú, susurrando un misterio,
de un no sé qué venéreo,
me das un protector.
Tú, sentada en una silla
yo, de pie con expresión de loor.
Tú, desnuda y con sombrilla
yo, vestido pero con calor.
Tú...
Yo...
Él.
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