Текст и перевод песни Joan Manuel Serrat feat. Calle 13 - Algo Personal (with Calle 13)

Algo Personal (with Calle 13)

Probablemente en su pueblo se les recordará
Como cachorros de buenas personas,
Que hurtaban flores para regalar a su mamá
Y daban de comer a las palomas.
Probablemente que todo eso debe ser verdad,
Aunque es más turbio cómo y de qué manera
Llegaron esos individuos a ser lo que
Son
Ni a quién sirven cuando alzan las banderas.
Hombres de paja que usan la colonia y el honor
Para ocultar oscuras intenciones:
Tienen doble vida, son sicarios del mal
Entre esos tipos y yo hay algo personal.
Tienen mas trucos que los magos verdaderamente
Sin usar barita mágica desaparecen gente
Abra cadabra desapareciste
Si tu pangarta dice algo que los pone triste
Odian a los humanista
Los estudiantes de filosofía son todos unos terroristas
Generalmente nose llevan bien con los pensadores
Son como los toros no ven todos los colores
Llegaron a salvarnos en estos tiempos trágicos
Juntos con sus promesas llenas de realismo magico
Y con su lenguage de mentiras infinitas
Convencen hasta las flores de que no son bonitas
Te confunden aunque tengas claridad mental
Son de los tipos que le venden hielo
A un esquimal
Hacen trampa con los votos en la escuela electoral
Con estos tipos yo tambien tengo algo personal.
Rodeados de un protocolo, comitiva y seguridad,
Viajan de incógnito en autos blindados
A sembrar calumnias, a mentir con naturalidad,
A colgar en las escuelas su retrato.
Se gastan más de lo que tienen en coleccionar
Espías, listas negras y arsenales;
Resulta bochornoso verles fanfarronear
A ver quién es el que la tiene más grande. Se arman hasta los dientes
En el nombre de la paz,
Juegan con cosas que no tienen repuesto y la culpa es del otro si algo les sale mal
Entre esos tipos y yo hay algo personal.
De los colegios militares son devotos
Por que piensan que para defenderse
Hay que matar a otro,
Dificil de enjuiciar frente a los tribunales
Mandan a terceros para no dejar sus huellas dijitales,
Ullen en helicópteros ee la milicia
Y se hacen los enfermos pá escapar de la justicia
Regalan fútbol, cerveza y un poco de baile tambien
Pá que te olviden de que no se estan portando bien
Se robaron lo sueños de media humanidad
No creen en la pascua tampoco creen en navidad
A estos tipos cuando chicos no les dieron cariño
Por eso cuando les disparan se protegen con los niños.
Frente a las camaras para no quedar mal
Se desañunan una ostia el domingo en la catedral
Son como jugos de frutas con sabor artificial
Entre estos tipos y yo hay algo personal.
Y como quien en la cosa, nada tiene que perder.
Pulsan la alarma y rompen las promesas
Y en nombre de quien no tienen el gusto de conocer
Nos ponen la pistola en la cabeza.
Se agarran de los pelos, pero para no ensuciar
Van a cagar a casa de otra gente
Y experimentan nuevos métodos de masacrar,
Sofisticados y a la vez convincentes.
No conocen ni a su padre cuando pierden el control,
Ni recuerdan que en el mundo hay niños.
Nos niegan a todos el pan y la sal.
Entre esos tipos y yo hay algo personal.
Nos niegan a todos el pan y la sal
Entre esos tipo y yo
(Con ellos no me llevo, con esos tipos no concuerdo)
Entre esos tipos y yo
(Por que los locos que olvidan no se llevan con los recuerdos)
Entre esos tipo y yo hay algo personal.

Something Personal (with Calle 13)

Probably in their town, they'll be remembered
As puppies of good people,
Who stole flowers to give to their mom
And fed the pigeons.
Probably all of that must be true,
Although it's murkier how and in what way
Those individuals came to be what they
Are
Nor who they serve when they raise the flags.
Straw men who use cologne and honor
To hide dark intentions:
They have double lives, they are assassins of evil
Between those guys and me, there's something personal.
They have more tricks than real magicians
Without using a magic wand, they make people disappear
Abracadabra, you vanished
If your big mouth says something that makes them sad
They hate humanists
Philosophy students are all terrorists
Generally, they don't get along with thinkers
They're like bulls, they don't see all the colors
They came to save us in these tragic times
Along with their promises full of magical realism
And with their language of infinite lies
They convince even the flowers that they're not pretty
They confuse you even if you have mental clarity
They're the kind of guys who sell ice
To an Eskimo
They cheat with the votes in the electoral school
With these guys, I also have something personal.
Surrounded by protocol, entourage, and security,
They travel incognito in armored cars
To sow slander, to lie naturally,
To hang their portrait in schools.
They spend more than they have collecting
Spies, blacklists, and arsenals;
It's embarrassing to see them bragging
To see who has the biggest one. They arm themselves to the teeth
In the name of peace,
They play with things that have no replacement and it's the other's fault if something goes wrong
Between those guys and me, there's something personal.
They are devotees of military schools
Because they think that to defend yourself
You have to kill another,
Difficult to prosecute before the courts
They send others so as not to leave their digital fingerprints,
They fly in helicopters of the militia
And pretend to be sick to escape justice
They give away soccer, beer, and a little dancing too
So you forget that they're not behaving well
They stole the dreams of half of humanity
They don't believe in Easter, they also don't believe in Christmas
These guys weren't given affection as kids
That's why when they get shot at, they shield themselves with children.
In front of the cameras, so as not to look bad
They have a communion wafer for breakfast on Sunday at the cathedral
They're like fruit juices with artificial flavor
Between these guys and me, there's something personal.
And like someone who has nothing to lose,
They press the alarm and break their promises
And in the name of someone they don't have the pleasure of knowing
They put a gun to our heads.
They pull each other's hair, but to avoid getting dirty
They go shit at someone else's house
And they experiment with new methods of massacre,
Sophisticated and at the same time convincing.
They don't even know their father when they lose control,
Nor do they remember that there are children in the world.
They deny us all bread and salt.
Between those guys and me, there's something personal.
They deny us all bread and salt
Between those guys and me
(I don't get along with them, I don't agree with those guys)
Between those guys and me
(Because crazy people who forget don't get along with memories)
Between those guys and me, there's something personal.