Paroles et traduction Mario Álvarez Quiroga - La Nueva Revolución

La Nueva Revolución

Era niño de ese tiempo
Y la gran revolucion
Encendia una hoguera
Y en mi padre la emocion
El salario del obrero
Era carne de cañon
Y pal dolor de cabeza
Una tira de geniol
De alpargatas marca tero
Se lucia el peon
Y las tripas le silbaban
Por el mate cimarron
Pululaban las promesas
Arma de revolucion
Y en el barrio se moria
Del maldito sarampion
Van creciendo como todos
Bajo
Con un padre jornalero
Y una madre
Un guerrero habia nacido
Con cara de redentor
Algunos lo veneraban
Como al che el salvador
Y la lista era enorme...
No creia en la traicion
Soñaba liberar pueblos
De la maldita opresion
Llegaron los trepadores
Atravesando el umbral
El de las torpes mentiras
Confundiendo a los demas
Por derecha se montaron
Traicioneros sin moral
Militando sin vergüenza
En la izquierda popular
A los diecinueve años
La noticia nos busco
Mataban al gran guerrero
Y el mundo se estremecio
Mi generacion burlada
A ponchazos se morfo
El lavado de cerebros
De la gorra y la traicion
Muchos compañeros mios
Hoy se creen lo que no son
Oportunistas de moda
Del caballo ganador
En la olla y en el caldo
Caldo gordo por demas
Donde la obsecuencia come
Sin mirar a los de atrás
Pequeños burgueses fachos
Alcahuetes del patron
Por un puñado de guita
El poder se los comio

Para ser un comunista
Hay que tener condicion
Haber nacido cubano
Bajo la revolucion

Rememorando los años
Sigo esperando señor
Que mandrake nos devuelva
Con su magia la ilusion
Ha pasado tanto tiempo
De la gran revolucion
Volvieron las alpargatas
Y mas hambre en el peon
La bohemia del 60 sigue bien
La procesion
Por eso en los mutilados
Por la gran inquisicion
Esta mayonesa tiene
Poco huevo pal color
Esta vez sera sin armas
La nueva revolucion

En las remeras se vive
La nueva revolucion
Del milagro asesinado
Con cara de redentor

The New Revolution

I was a child of that time
And the great revolution
Ignited a bonfire
And in my father, emotion
The worker's salary
Was cannon fodder
And for a headache
A strip of geniol
In espadrilles of the brand Tero
The farmhand looked smart
And his entrails whistled
For the bitter mate
Promises proliferated
Weapons of revolution
And in the neighborhood people were dying
Of the damned measles
Like everyone else, they were growing up
Under
With a day laborer father
And a mother
A warrior was born
With the face of a redeemer
Some venerated him
Like Che, the savior
And the list was enormous...
He did not believe in betrayal
He dreamed of liberating peoples
From the damned oppression
The climbers arrived
Crossing the threshold
That of the clumsy lies
Confusing everyone else
They got in on the right
Treacherous and without morals
Militating without shame
On the popular left
At nineteen years of age
News reached us
The great warrior was killed
And the world trembled
My generation, fooled,
Was slowly consumed
Brainwashed
By the cap and the betrayal
Many of my comrades
Today believe that they are something they are not
Opportunists in fashion
Of the winning horse
In the pot and in the broth
Very rich broth
Where obsequiousness eats
Without looking at those behind
Little bourgeois fascists
Pimps of the boss
For a handful of money
Power has eaten them

To be a communist,
You have to have the condition
To have been born Cuban
Under the revolution

Recalling the years
I am still waiting, Sir,
For Mandrake to return to us
With his magic the illusion
So much time has passed
Since the great revolution
The espadrilles have returned
And there is more hunger among the farmhands
The 60s’ bohemia is alive and well
The procession
That is why, for the mutilated
For the great inquisition
This mayonnaise has
Little egg for its color
This time it will be without weapons
The new revolution

It lives on the T-shirts
The new revolution
Of the murdered miracle
With the face of a redeemer