A notte porta sentieri…
Vexo o lobo que baixa en manda
Na carreira frótanse os costados
Amosan o brillo do fio dos dentes
E o mundo se lle abre indefenso
A noite trae camiños que o sol ocultaba
Nun bote de marmelada de laranxa
Como un tesouro poderoso
260 centímetros cúbicos
Gasolina de 95 octanos
O lobo xa non ten medo
A carreira e os gritos excitárano
Logrou silenciar calquera disidencia
O lume morde forte
O colchón ilumina a vitoria
Da miseria só fica un souvenir
mancha negra á beira da vía do tren
Souvenir from the islands
I see the wolf descending in a pack
In the race their sides rub together
They show the shine of their teeth
And the world helplessly opens up to them
The night brings paths that the sun hid
In a jar of local marmalade
Like a powerful treasure
260 cubic centimeters
95 octane gasoline
The wolf is no longer afraid
The race and the screams excited him
He managed to silence any dissent
The fire bites hard
The mattress illuminates the victory
Only a souvenir remains of misery
Black spot by the side of the train track
abel abilheira 