Paroles et traduction La Gossa Sorda - Batiste Ceba (Live)

Batiste Ceba (Live)

Encara no ha eixit el Sol
I allà va batiste ceba
Dos casalles dins del cos
L'aixada al coll camí de l'horta

Avuí tot es diferent se'n adona Batiste Ceba
Excavadores i ciments
Li estan destrossant la terra

Conta el tio Batiste de quan era xicotet
Que son pare li ensenyava a llaurar bé
Que cada dia d'estiu
Cremant-li el Sol al llom
Que com l'han fet patir sempre eixos cabrons
Conta el tio Batiste de quan era xicotet
Que son pare li ensenyava a llaurar bé
Que cada dia d'estiu
Cremant-li el Sol al llom
Que com l'han fet patir sempre eixos cabrons

Volen fer una carretera i li tombaran sa casa
L'alqueria més bonica de tota la comarca
Ja no beurà aigua del pou ni podrà collir tomaques
Li estan furtant la vida els fills dels camises blaves

Conta el tio Batiste de quan era xicotet
Que son pare li ensenyava a llaurar bé
Que cada dia d'estiu
Cremant-li el Sol al llom
Que com l'han fet patir sempre eixos cabrons

Sempre!

Conta el tio Batiste de quan era xicotet
Que son pare li ensenyava a llaurar bé
Que cada dia d'estiu
Cremant-li el Sol al llom
Que com l'han fet patir sempre eixos cabrons

Encara no son deu i el sol ja crema
Encara no son deu i el sol ja crema, crema
Encara no son deu i el sol ja crema
Encara no son deu i el sol ja crema, crema
I el sol ja crema

El meu xiquet es l'amo
Del corral i del carrer
De la figuera i la parra
De la flor del taronger

Lolololololo Batiste!
Lolololololo més, més, més, més!
Lolololololo Batiste!
Lolololololo!

Lolololololo Batiste!
Lolololololo més, més, més, més!
Lolololololo Batiste!
Lolololololo!

Lolololololo Batiste!
Lolololololo més, més, més, més!
Lolololololo Batiste!
Lolololololo!

Lolololololo Batiste!
Lolololololo més, més, més, més!
Lolololololo Batiste!
Lolololololo!

Batiste Ceba (Live)

The sun hasn't risen yet
And there goes Batiste Ceba
Two jackets on his body
The hoe on his shoulder, on the way to the garden

Today, everything is different, Batiste Ceba notices
Excavators and concrete
They are destroying his land

Uncle Batiste talks about when he was little
That his father taught him to plow well
That every summer day
Burning the sun on his back
That how they have always made him suffer, those bastards
Uncle Batiste talks about when he was little
That his father taught him to plow well
That every summer day
Burning the sun on his back
That how they have always made him suffer, those bastards

They want to build a road and will take his house
The most beautiful farm in the whole region
He will no longer drink water from the well or pick tomatoes
The sons of the blue shirts are stealing his life

Uncle Batiste talks about when he was little
That his father taught him to plow well
That every summer day
Burning the sun on his back
That how they have always made him suffer, those bastards

Always!

Uncle Batiste talks about when he was little
That his father taught him to plow well
That every summer day
Burning the sun on his back
That how they have always made him suffer, those bastards

He's not even ten and the sun is already burning
He's not even ten and the sun is already burning, burning
He's not even ten and the sun is already burning
He's not even ten and the sun is already burning, burning
And the sun is already burning

My little boy is the master
Of the courtyard and the street
Of the fig tree and the vine
Of the orange blossom

Lolololololo Batiste!
Lolololololo more, more, more, more!
Lolololololo Batiste!
Lolololololo!

Lolololololo Batiste!
Lolololololo more, more, more, more!
Lolololololo Batiste!
Lolololololo!

Lolololololo Batiste!
Lolololololo more, more, more, more!
Lolololololo Batiste!
Lolololololo!

Lolololololo Batiste!
Lolololololo more, more, more, more!
Lolololololo Batiste!
Lolololololo!