Hive Open Mic SEMANA 150 / Pájaro de rodillas / @aly.squid (Español/Inglés)

Hive Open Mic WEEK 150 // Pajaro de rodillas // @aly.squid (English/Spanish)

A friendly greeting dear Hivers, it is a pleasure for me to be a new week sharing with you in Open Mic. The theme for week 150 is "Our Virtue" so I have chosen a song of great value to me. It is "Pájaro de rodillas" a song by Alfredo Zitarrosa and Carlos Porcel, but that I met in the beautiful voice of La Negra Sosa, one of my favorite singers, for her absolutely perfect voice and her militant history.

"Pájaro de rodillas" is a song that speaks, precisely, that the virtue of musicians is not to kneel before anyone, nor to kneel their song. Singers have the power to give voice to the oppressed and forgotten of history, those plastic characters that are sold to the market have no virtue as artists, they are products of the music industry, which serve as objects to the interests of the most powerful.

This applies to all artists in any area, because art is a language, which has to serve as a tool of expression for justice, truth and dignity. That is why I decided to bring this song, whose lyrics are also pure poetry, this week. As a gift and a reminder of our virtue as artists, that every week we gather on this beautiful world stage to express ourselves and share our musical experiences.

I hope you like my humble instrumental interpretation. I leave here below the lyrics, because it is perfect, a masterpiece.

Lyrics

Singer who sings is a bird
little breast of seeds
singing in the tavern
or with a sick voice
he doesn't sing on his knees

You can see him flapping
the yellow wings
with closed eyes
and a tired heart
but never on his knees
but never on his knees

Can't the little bird
standing on his pitchfork
or on the highest branch
or in the humble grass
to get down on his knees

I'm talking about the little bird
and its little song
that can be born true
that can be born dead
but not on its knees
but not on my knees

There is no true song
nor song so simple
than the bird singing it
in order to deliver it
to bring it to its knees

And I do not defend the song
but the little bird
of paper that makes a trill
tomorrow a blunder
but never on my knees
but never on my knees

And he who sings to the tyrant
is not a bird nor is he anything
he is a reptile of the swamp
clucking for the master
on bended knee

Singer who sings is a bird
little seed-breasted
singing in the tavern
or with a sick voice
does not sing on his knees
does not sing on his knees.

source/fuente