Paroles et traduction Zoo - Musica del descontento

Musica del descontento

Estic buscant tantes respostes, que oblide les preguntes que m'he fet,
Guanyant en impotència al ritme que perc drets
Pensant més en desitjos que en fets, plorant de ràbia,
Volent fer paredons de les parets
Tombar el mur, obrir la gàbia, eixir del pou
Rega la vida amb nova savia l'home nou, Hugo viu,
Al rostre del seu poble que diu "D'ací no passen"
Defenen el seu pa i les seues cases.
I monta un numeret el amo de la empresa,
Que plora si li expropien la riquessa,
Això ja noés com era, han trobat la manera,
Han olorat la sang, i ara té fam la fera
Les lleis ja no son lleis si sempre fallen
El rei ja no és el rei si el cap li tallen
Vinguen les armes als meus, plouen les pedres
El poble salva al poble d'eixos putos merdes
I saludant al nou segle, trenquen el guió i les regles.
I una cosa: si veniu amb colps d'Estat... com
A Cuba, com Vietnam: Caureu sense pietat!

Tempestes vénen del sud, sonen corbelles que tallen la boira
I creix una flor al mur, vol ser futur, és present, és memòria

Sents com s'esmolen les metàfores
I el so de la guillotina talla l'aire
Destinats a no tindre dret a guanyar mai
Han eixit rebotaets i el nord comença a tremolar
Guevara viu com Durruti en les paraules d'Emma Goldman
El sud somriu conscient de la seua força
L'Escola de Chicago no guia els nostres passos
Portem idees i energia a cabassos
Exprópiese, colectivízese, que el poble mane
Més enllà de ministres i presidents
Apúrense, que senten la por a la pell
Recordem els nostres morts mentre afilem el ganivet
Cochabamba, Chiapas, Haymarket
Venes obertes, corbelles esmolaes
Tenim els referents, els exemples,
La selva, la defenem a maxetaes
Nuestra casa no es el patio de los gringos
Poco a poco expulsamos al imperio
I una idea que deuríem no oblidar:
Contra tota autoritat, barrà de ferro al cap!!

I no seran mai més el nostre magatzem,
La dignitat no es compra, el sol no es ven
Que no van a permetre que els exploten
Ni soportar el pes de noves botes
Capitalisme és barbàrie han aprés que
La història s'escriu amb la sang de qui perd, Sí.
Que ara son seus el café, el blat i el sucre.
Que en esta Europa muerte huele a azufre.

Music of Discontent

I'm searching for so many answers, I've forgotten the questions I asked,
Gaining in impotence as I lose my rights
Thinking more of desires than deeds, crying with rage,
Wanting to tear down the walls
Topple the wall, open the cage, escape the pit
The new man, Hugo lives, irrigates life with new sap,
On the face of his people who say "They shall not pass"
They defend their bread and their homes.
And the owner of the company puts on a show,
Who cries if they expropriate his wealth,
This is no longer what it was, they have found the way,
They have smelled the blood, and now the beast is hungry
Laws are no longer laws if they always fail
The king is no longer the king if his head is cut off
Bring the weapons to my people, the stones rain down
The people save the people from those fucking shits
And greeting the new century, they break the script and the rules.
And one thing: if you come with coups...
Like Cuba, like Vietnam: You will fall without mercy!

Storms come from the south, sickles that cut the fog sound
And a flower grows on the wall, wants to be the future, is the present, is memory

You feel how the metaphors are sharpened
And the sound of the guillotine cuts the air
Destined to never have the right to win
They have come out rebounded and the north begins to tremble
Guevara lives like Durruti in the words of Emma Goldman
The south smiles aware of its strength
The Chicago School does not guide our steps
We carry ideas and energy in baskets
Expropriate, collectivize, let the people rule
Beyond ministers and presidents
Hurry up, they feel the fear on their skin
We remember our dead as we sharpen the knife
Cochabamba, Chiapas, Haymarket
Open veins, sharpened sickles
We have the references, the examples,
The jungle, we defend it with machetes
Our house is not the backyard of the gringos
Little by little we expel the empire
And an idea that we should not forget:
Against all authority, iron bar to the head!!

And they will never again be our warehouse,
Dignity is not bought, the sun is not sold
That they will not allow themselves to be exploited
Nor bear the weight of new boots
Capitalism is barbarity they have learned that
History is written with the blood of the loser, Yes.
That now the coffee, the wheat and the sugar are theirs.
That in this dead Europe it smells of sulfur.