I was just listening to this song from Joan Manuel Serrat. My translation.
Wild Child
Child of the mountain
omen of bad death
wild child
comes and goes on the side walk.
Child of no-one
that trying to find a living
uglies the avenue
and gives the city a bad name
Newborn
with an amputated innocence
that in the pack
redeems his sin of existing.
Child without a child
defenseless and scared
who learns under the force of blows
to survive like the beasts
Wild child
shoe shiner and thief
sells himself in parts or whole
as an ounce of chocolate.
Roams the street
during the daytime
and at night he hides
so they don’t kill him.
And if luck,
to give it a name,
scares the wolf away,
and lengthens his life a little more.
If glue
doesn’t rotten his lungs
if he escapes the killing thugs
if he survives the whip, perhaps
He’ll become old
between jails and iron bars
seeding the ground
of more wild children, randomly.
And any night
in a cleaning job
they’ll blow the head
of one of them, without batting an eye.
You can help, visit Casa Alianza
As I mentioned in my 
kit. I bought it from
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