Caminante No Hay Camino Lyrics in English Joan Manuel Serrat

Below, I translated the lyrics of the song Caminante No Hay Camino by Joan Manuel Serrat from Spanish to English.
Everything passes and everything stays
But ours is to pass
To pass while making a path
A path over the sea
I never chased glory
Nor to leave in men's memory
My song
I love the subtle worlds
Weightless and gentle
Like soap bubbles
I like to watch them paint themselves
With sun and crimson, to fly
Under the blue sky to tremble
Suddenly and to break
I never chased glory
Traveler, your footprints are the path and nothing more
Traveler, there's no path, the path is made by walking
By walking, the path is made, and when you look back
You see the track that will never be walked again
Traveler, there's no path, only wakes on the sea
Some time ago in that place
Where today the woods are dressed in thorns
You hear the voice of a poet shout
Traveler, there's no path, the path is made by walking
Blow by blow and verse by verse
The poet died far from home
Dust from a neighboring land covers him
As he left, they saw him cry
Traveler, there's no path, the path is made by walking
Blow by blow, verse by verse
When the goldfinch can't sing
When the poet is a wanderer
When praying is no use to us
Traveler, there's no path, the path is made by walking
Blow by blow and verse by verse
And blow by blow, verse by verse
And blow by blow, verse by verse
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SONG MEANING

“Caminante, no hay camino…” is Serrat’s poetic reminder that life is not a pre-drawn map, it is a trail we create step by step. The song celebrates the here and now: everything passes, everything leaves a trace, but our true purpose is to keep moving, carving out our own route even if it feels as fleeting as foam on the sea. Serrat, inspired by the Spanish poet Antonio Machado, tells us that glory and fame are not his goals; instead, he delights in delicate, weightless worlds, like soap bubbles that burst in sunlight.

The chorus repeats like a mantra: “Walker, there is no path, the path is made by walking.” Each footprint is unique, and once we look back, the old path can never be trodden again. Through the image of a poet who dies far from home and the silenced goldfinch that can no longer sing, Serrat warns that times of hardship may mute our voices, yet the only way forward is still “golpe a golpe, verso a verso” – blow by blow, verse by verse. Ultimately, the song is a hopeful ode to personal freedom and creativity: trust your steps, craft your own song, and leave shimmering wakes across the sea of life.

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