Todo Cambia

This past week we traveled to Costa Rica to renew our visas; this coming week my sister is coming to visit and then we're traveling again. So much to do, so little time to blog! In lieu of words and pictures, I'll just post this song -- "Todo Cambia" -- by the late Argentine singer Mercedes Sosa. I first heard it at a presentation about the impacts of climate change in Nicaragua (such a good idea to include music in technical presentations!), and I thought it was lovely. Enjoy!


Cambia lo superficial, cambia también lo profundo,
cambia el modo de pensar, cambia todo en este mundo;
cambia el clima con los años, cambia el pastor, su rebaño
y así como todo cambia que yo cambie no es extraño.

Cambia el más fino brillante de mano en mano su brillo.
Cambia el nido, el pajarillo. Cambia el sentir un amante.
Cambia el rumbo el caminante, aunque esto le cause daño.
Y así como todo cambia, que yo cambie no es extraño.

Cambia, todo cambia, cambia, todo cambia.

Cambia el sol en su carrera, cuando la noche subsiste,
Cambia la planta y se viste de verde en la primavera.
Cambia el pelaje la fiera. Cambia el cabello del anciano.
y así como todo cambia, que yo cambie no es extraño.

Pero no cambia mi amor por más lejos que me encuentre.
Ni el recuerdo, ni el dolor, de mi pueblo, de mi gente.
Y lo que cambió ayer tendrá que cambiar mañana,
así como cambio yo en esta tierra lejana.

---

The superficial changes, and also the profound changes.
The way of thinking changes, everything in this world changes.
The climate changes with the years, the pastor changes and her flock.
And as everything changes, it is not strange that I change.

The finest diamond changes its brightness from hand to hand.
The nest changes, the bird. A lover changes his feelings.
The walker changes direction, even if it causes her harm.
And as everything changes, it is not strange that I change.

Change, everything changes. Change, everything changes.

The sun in its course changes, when the night remains.
The plant changes and wears green in the springtime.
The wild beast changes its fur. The old one changes his hair.
And as everything changes, it is not strange that I change.

But my love doesn't change no matter how far away I am.
Nor the memory nor the pain, of my village, of my people.
And what changed yesterday will have to change tomorrow
As I change in this far off land.