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October 10, 2013

Octavo Día/The Eight Day – Shakira – Mishelle Farer

Filed under: Uncategorized — mf124203 @ 9:13 am

Octavo Día

El octavo día Dios después de tanto trabajar

Para liberar tensiones luego ya de revisar
Dijo todo esta muy bien es hora de descansar
Y se fue a dar un paseo por el espacio sideral

Quien se iba a imaginar que el mismo Dios al regresar
Iba a encontrarlo todo en un desorden infernal
Que se iba a convertir en un desempleado mas
De la tasa que anualmente esta creciendo sin parar

Desde ese entonces hay quienes lo han visto
Solo en las calles transitar
Anda esperando paciente por alguien
Con quien al menos tranquilo
Pueda conversar

Mientras tanto este mundo gira y gira sin poderlo detener
Y aquí abajo unos cuantos nos manejan
Como fichas de ajedrez
No soy la clase de idiota
Que se deja convencer
Pero digo la verdad
Y hasta un ciego lo puede ver

Si a falta de ocupación
O de excesiva soledad
Dios no resistiera mas
Y se marchara a otro lugar
Seria nuestra perdición
No habría otro remedio mas
Que adorar a Michael Jackson
A Bill Clinton o a Tarzan

Es mas dificil ser rey sin corona
Que una persona mas normal
Pobre de Dios que no sale en revistas
Que no es modelo ni artista o de familia real

Mientras tanto este mundo gira y gira
Sin poderlo detener
Y aqui abajo unos cuantos nos manejan
Como fichas de ajedrez
No soy la clase de idiota
Que se deja convencer
Pero digo la verdad
Y hasta un ciego lo puede ver

Mientras tanto este mundo gira y gira
Sin poderlo detener
Y aqui abajo unos cuantos nos manejan
Como fichas de ajedrez
No soy la clase de idiota
Que se deja convencer
Pero digo la verdad
Y hasta un ciego lo puede ver

The Eight Day

After all of his hard work, on the 8th day God

Reviewed his work to relieve tension

He said “everything is good. It’s time to rest.”

Then he took a stroll through the universe

 

Who would have thought , God himself, upon his return

Would find everything in such disorder and chaos

And that He would be another among the unemployed

In the cup that annually grows with no end

 

Since then many have seen him

Strolling alone in the streets

He waits patiently for someone

With whom to at least chat with

 

In the meantime this world

Spins and spins endlessly

And down here there are those who move

Us around like pieces in a chess game

I’m not the kind of idiot to allow herself to be convinced

But I do speak the truth

Even a blind person could see

 

With no job or because of excessive lonliness

God couldn’t stand it anymore

And moved on to other places

It would be our loss

We would have no alternative

But to worship Michael Jackson Bill Clinton, or even Tarzan

 

It’s harder to be a king with no crown

Then a regular normal person

Poor God. He’s never featured in magazines

He’s not a model or artist, or of a real family

 

In the meantime this world spins and spins endlessly

And down here there are those who move

Us around like pieces in a chess game

I’m not the kind of idiot

To allow herself to be convinced

But I do speak truth

Even a blind person could see

 

In the meantime this world spins and spins endlessly

And down here there are those who move

Us around like pieces in a chess game

I’m not the kind of idiot

To allow herself to be convinced

But I do speak truth

Even a blind person could see



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