Текст и перевод песни Joan Manuel Serrat - Algo Personal

Algo Personal

Probablemente en su pueblo se le 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
Rodeados de 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 de el otro si algo les sale mal
Entre esos 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
Pero eso sí, los sicarios no pierden ocasión
De declarar públicamente su empeño
En propiciar un día luego de franca distensión
Que les permita hallar un marco previo
Que garantice unas premisas mínimas
Que faciliten crear los resortes
Que impulsen un punto de partida sólido y capaz
De Este a Oeste y de Sur a Norte
Donde establecer las bases de un tratado de amistad
Que contribuya a poner los cimientos
De una plataforma donde edificar
Un hermoso futuro de amor y paz

Something Personal

Perhaps in their town they'll be remembered
As good people's puppies
Who stole flowers to give their mother
And fed the doves
Probably all that must be true
Although it's more murky how and in what way
These individuals became what they are
Or who they serve when they raise the flags
Straw men who wear cologne and honor
To hide dark intentions
They have double lives, they're assassins of evil
Between those guys and me, there's 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
In 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 they blame the other if something goes wrong
Between those guys and me there's something personal
And as someone who has nothing to lose
They sound the alarm and break promises
And in the name of those they don't have the pleasure of knowing
They put a gun to our heads
They pull each other's hair but so as not to get dirty
They go to crap at other people's houses
And experiment with new methods of massacring
Sophisticated yet compelling
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
But yes, the assassins do not miss an opportunity
To publicly declare their commitment
To promote a day of true détente
That will allow them to find a previous framework
That guarantees minimal premises
That facilitate the creation of springs
That drive a solid and capable starting point
From East to West and from South to North
To establish the basis for a treaty of friendship
That will contribute to laying the foundations
Of a platform where we can build
A beautiful future of love and peace