Calle 13: Latinoamerica

(radio transmission, indigenous language)

I am
I am what they left
I’m the leftovers of what was stolen.
A village hidden on the peak,
My skin is made of leather that’s why it stands any weather.
I’m a factory of smoke,
A peasant work of art for your consumption
In the middle of summer, frente de frio en el medio del verano
Love in the Time of Cholera, my brother.
I am the one that is born and the day he dies
with the best sun sets
I am development in flesh and blood
a political discourse without saliva.
The most beautiful faces I’ve met,
I’m the photograph of a missing person.
I’m the blood inside your veins,
I’m a piece of land that is worth it.
I’m a basket with beans,
I’m Maradona against England scoring 2 goals.
I’m what that holds my flag,
the backbone of my planet, is my mountain range
I’m what that my father taught me,
Who doesn’t love his country doesn’t love his mother.
I’m Latin America, a people without legs but that walk

Listen

You can’t buy the wind.
You can’t buy the sun.
You can’t buy the rain.
You can’t buy the heat.
You can’t buy the clouds.
You can’t buy the colors.
You can’t buy my happiness.
You can’t buy my pains.

(repeated)

I have the lakes, I have the rivers.
I have my teeth for when I smile.
The snow that beautifies my mountains.
I have the sun that dries me and the rain that washes me
A desert intoxicated with peyote

A drink of pulque
To sing with the coyotes

All that I need.

I have my lungs breathing clear blue,
The height that suffocates
I’m the molars of my mouth chewing coca.
Autumn with its fainted leaves
The verses written under the starry night
A vineyard filled with grapes.
A sugar cane plantation under the Cuban sun. sun in cuba
I’m the Caribbean Sea that watches over the little houses,
Making rituals of holy water.
The wind that combs my hair
I’m all the saints that hang from my neck.
The juice of my struggle is not artificial,
Because the fertilizer of my land is natural.

You can’t buy the wind.
You can’t buy the sun.
You can’t buy the rain.
You can’t buy the heat.
You can’t buy the clouds.
You can’t buy the colors.
You can’t buy my happiness.
You can’t buy my pains.
(in purtuguese)
You can’t buy the wind.
You can’t buy the sun.
You can’t buy the rain.
You can’t buy the heat.
You can’t buy the clouds.
You can’t buy the colors.
You can’t buy my happiness.
You can’t buy my sadness.

You can’t buy the sun.
You can’t buy the rain.

we are walking

we are walking

we are drawing the way

we are walking

You can’t buy my life.
MY LAND IS NOT FOR SALE.

I work hard but with pride,
Here we share, what’s mine is yours.
This town doesn’t drown with big waves.
And if it collapses I will rebuild it.
I don’t blink either when I see you
So that you remember my surname.
Operation Condor invading my nest.
I forgive but I’ll never forget, listen

(we are walking)
Here we breath struggle
(we are walking)

I sing because you can hear it

we are drawing the way

Here we are on our feet

Long live Latin America.

You can’t buy my life.

(most of the translation obtained here)

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