Текст и перевод песни Brams - El Senyal de Combat

El Senyal de Combat

Ara cal anar desenterrant
La destral a cada cap de carrer,
Superar l'efecte del sedant,
Aquell que fa que sembli tot aliè.

Però aquest tremp que ara ha eixorivit
No és suficient per encetar l'atac
Cal armar de raó el despit
I acumular dents per al xerrac.

Els iaios que seuen al banc de la plaça, la colla del bar,
Antics amics d'escola que fa l'hòstia que no veus,
La dona que ven verdura al mercat:
Tot som peces del trencaclosques.

Ja es pot fer aquest acte rotund
On tothom té un paper reservat
Però depèn de quan estigui a punt
La dona que ven verdura al mercat.

Gent que des que va marxar només veus per Patum i per Nadal,
Els companys de feina, fins i tot els que no t'hi fas,
La dona que ven verdura al mercat:
Tots som peces del trencaclosques que anem encaixant.

La colla d'immigrants que fa uns dies que són a la ciutat,
Aquell home amb qui ningú no parla mai,
La dona que ven verdura al mercat:
Tots som peces del trencaclosques.

Que la prudència no ens faci traïdors
Que la pressa no ens faci entrebancar,
De la parada de verdura del mercat
Sortirà el senyal de combat.

The Combat Signal

It's time to unearth the axe
At every street end,
To overcome the effect of the sedative,
The one that makes everything seem alien.

But this spirit that has now exhausted
Is not enough to engage in combat
You must arm spite with reason
And accumulate teeth for the saw.

The grandparents sitting on the bench in the square, the gang at the bar,
Old friends from school you haven't seen in ages,
The woman selling vegetables at the market:
We are all pieces of the jigsaw puzzle.

This conclusive act can now be done
Where everyone has a reserved role
But it depends on when it's ready
The woman selling vegetables at the market.

People who you only see at Patum and Christmas since they left,
Your workmates, even the ones you don't get on with,
The woman selling vegetables at the market:
We are all pieces of the jigsaw puzzle that we are fitting together.

The group of immigrants who have been in the city for a few days,
That man no one ever talks to,
The woman selling vegetables at the market:
We are all pieces of the jigsaw puzzle.

May prudence not make us traitors
May haste not make us stumble,
From the vegetable stall at the market
The combat signal will sound.