Текст и перевод песни Joan Manuel Serrat - Lletanía

Lletanía

Tot canvia, res canvia,
Mira el tren, mira la via.
Si t'ho penses i bé observes,
Ja sabràs filosofia.

Mil discursos, pocs recursos,
és el pa de cada dia.
Sols Espanya, qui ho diria,
Vol ser sola i no canvia.

Monarquia, oligarquia,
Dictadura, cara dura.
Barret frigi sens prestigi
I després vingué el prodigi.

Una guerra que ho esguerra
I un cabdill que adoptà un fill:
Un jove de molta empenta
A qui li faltava un grill.

Hi ha feixistes i papistes,
I un grapat de llargues llistes,
Rabassaires, mercenaris
I gents que resa rosaris.

Hi ha carlistes i marxistes,
I també alguns optimistes,
Policies i espies,
I gent que no té manies.

I "la no intervención"
I "los del Real Perdón".

I segueix la llarga cursa,
Que s'allarga i que s'escurça,
De corsaris i falsaris,
I visites a altres barris.

Els que passen la frontera
Fent el salt de la pantera,
Ben folrada la cartera,
Foten "tiros" pel darrera.

Les rates de sagristia,
Considerada gent pia,
I, ¡ai vés qui ho diria!,
Fins i tots la meva tia.

I segueix la lletania
De l'amor, la mort i els dies.

Litany

All things change, nothing changes,
Look at the train, look at the track.
If you think about it and observe well,
You will already know philosophy.

A thousand speeches, few resources,
It's the daily bread.
Only Spain, who would have thought it,
Wants to be alone and does not change.

Monarchy, oligarchy,
Dictatorship, hard face.
Phrygian cap without prestige
And then came the prodigy.

A war that screws things up
And a leader who adopted a son:
A young man with a lot of drive
Who was missing a cricket.

There are fascists and papists,
And a handful of long lists,
Tenant farmers, mercenaries
And people who pray rosaries.

There are Carlists and Marxists,
And also some optimists,
Police and spies,
And people who have no hang-ups.

And "non-intervention"
And "los del Real Perdón".

And the long race continues,
Which gets longer and shorter,
Of corsairs and counterfeiters,
And visits to other neighborhoods.

Those who cross the border
Making the leap of the panther,
Wallet well-lined,
They "shoot" from behind.

The sacristy rats,
Considered pious people,
And, oh my, who would have thought it!,
Even my aunt.

And the litany continues
Of love, death and days.