For many it is one of the most beautiful songs of Cuban singer-songwriter Silvio Rodríguez. It is part of the album Live in Argentina, recorded in April 1984 with Pablo Milanés in Buenos Aires, a few months after the end of the dictatorship. Chairs, unlike the case with shoes, rarely appear in the songbook. Let everyone interpret it as they wish.
At the edge of the road there is a chair,
Rampaging around that place.
The friend's coat is laid out,
The friend does not sit down to rest.
His shoes, worn, are mirrors
Which burn his throat with the sun.
And through his weariness an old man passes by
Which dries him, with the shadow, the sweat.
At the tip of love the friend travels,
At the sharpest point to see.
That tip that the same digs to earth,
That in the ruins, than in a trail of woman.
That is why he is a soldier and is a lover,
That's why it's wood and it's metal.
That is why the same planting roses,
That reasons of flags and arsenal.
Whoever has a song will have a storm,
The one who has company, solitude.
Those who follow the right path will have chairs
Dangerous to invite him to stop.
But it's worth the good storm song,
And the company is worth solitude.
Always worth the agony of haste,
Even if the truth is filled with chairs.