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Nada by Carlos Pezoa Veliz Carlos Pezoa Veliz was a Chilean poet who lived at the turn of 20th century and Most of his work only got to be known posthumously. He was also an educator and a journalist working for publications in Santiago and Vina del Mar. There is in his body of work a concern for social issues and it is said...

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Welcome to Cabildo’s Official PageWelcome to Cabildo’s Official Page Hello, and welcome to Cabildo's Official Page A Cabildo literally means "Town Hall" in Spanish. This place also doubled as a place where black slaves where permitted to play their traditional music and where chants and drum parts were passed on from generation to generation during the Spanish colonization...

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About music, happiness, charangos and my first Peña When I was 13 years old my Tata (grandfather) bought me a brand new guitar, and after a few months I was ready for my first performance.  I remember buying a small wood cut print portraying Victor Jara that included a short quote by the singer (canto que ha sido valiente siempre será canción nueva)....

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Nada by Carlos Pezoa Veliz

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Posted on : 18-03-2012 | By : Julio | In : Featured, Member Blogs, New
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Carlos Pezoa Veliz was a Chilean poet who lived at the turn of 20th century and Most of his work only got to be known posthumously. He was also an educator and a journalist working for publications in Santiago and Vina del Mar.
There is in his body of work a concern for social issues and it is said influenced by the work of Gorki and Tolstoi.
There are two of his poems that I was taught in school, I don’t know actually when, that moment got lost in the hidden corners of my memory: “Tarde en el hospital” and “Nada”.
We have been working on arranging this last one. Here are the words in Spanish:

Era un pobre diablo que siempre venía
cerca de un gran pueblo donde yo vivía;
joven, rubio y flaco, sucio y mal vestido,
siempre cabizbajo… Tal vez un perdido!
Un día de invierno lo encontraron muerto,
dentro de un arroyo próximo a mi huerto,
varios cazadores que con sus lebreles
catando marchaban… Entre sus papeles
no encontraron nada… Los jueces de turno
hicieron preguntas al guardían nocturno:
éste no sabía nada del extinto;
ni el vecino Pérez, ni el vecino Pinto.
Una chica dijo que sería un loco
o algún vagabundo que comía poco,
y un chusco que oía las conversaciones
se tentó de risa… Vaya, unos simplones!
Una paletada le echó el panteonero;
luego lió un cigarro, se caló el sombrero
y emprendió la vuelta…! Tras la paletada,
nadie dijo nada, nadie dijo nada!.