Текст и перевод песни La Gossa Sorda - Batiste Ceba

Batiste Ceba

Encara no ha eixit el Sol
I allà va batiste ceba
Dos casalles dins del cos
L'aixada al coll camí de l'horta

Avuí tot es diferent se'n adona Batiste Ceba
Excavadores i ciments
Li estan destrossant la terra

Conta el tio Batiste de quan era xicotet
Que son pare li ensenyava a llaurar bé
Que cada dia d'estiu
Cremant-li el Sol al llom
Que com l'han fet patir sempre eixos cabrons

Volen fer una carretera i li tombaran sa casa
L'alqueria més bonica de tota la comarca
Ja no beurà aigua del pou ni podrà collir tomaques
Li estan furtant la vida els fills dels camises blaves

Conta el tio Batiste de quan era xicotet
Que son pare li ensenyava a llaurar bé
Que cada dia d'estiu
Cremant-li el Sol al llom
Que com l'han fet patir sempre eixos cabrons

Sempre!

Conta el tio Batiste de quan era xicotet
Que son pare li ensenyava a llaurar bé
Que cada dia d'estiu
Cremant-li el Sol al llom
Que com l'han fet patir sempre eixos cabrons

Encara no son deu i el sol ja crema
Encara no son deu i el sol ja crema, crema
Encara no son deu i el sol ja crema
Encara no son deu i el sol ja crema, crema
I el sol ja crema

El meu xiquet es l'amo
Del corral i del carrer
De la figuera i la parra
De la flor del taronger

Lolololololo Batiste!
Lolololololo més, més, més, més!
Lolololololo Batiste!
Lolololololo!

Lolololololo Batiste!
Lolololololo més, més, més, més!
Lolololololo Batiste!
Lolololololo!

Lolololololo Batiste!
Lolololololo més, més, més, més!
Lolololololo Batiste!
Lolololololo!

Lolololololo Batiste!
Lolololololo més, més, més, més!
Lolololololo Batiste!
Lolololololo!

Lolololololo Batiste!
Lolololololo més, més, més, més!
Lolololololo Batiste!
Lolololololo!

Batiste Ceba

The sun has not yet risen
And there goes Batiste Ceba
Two houses in his body
The axe on his neck on his way to the garden

Today everything is different, Batiste Ceba realizes
Excavators and cement
They are destroying his land

Uncle Batiste tells of when he was a child
That his father taught him to plow well
That every summer day
With the sun burning on his back
How those bastards have always made him suffer

They want to build a highway and will take his house
The most beautiful farmhouse in the whole region
He will no longer drink water from the well or be able to harvest tomatoes
The sons of the blue shirts are stealing his life

Uncle Batiste tells of when he was a child
That his father taught him to plow well
That every summer day
With the sun burning on his back
How those bastards have always made him suffer

Always!

Uncle Batiste tells of when he was a child
That his father taught him to plow well
That every summer day
With the sun burning on his back
How those bastards have always made him suffer

It's not even ten yet and the sun is already scorching
It's not even ten yet and the sun is already scorching, scorching
It's not even ten yet and the sun is already scorching
It's not even ten yet and the sun is already scorching, scorching
And the sun is scorching

My boy is the master
Of the corral and the street
Of the fig and the vine
Of the orange blossom

Lolololololo Batiste!
Lolololololo more, more, more, more!
Lolololololo Batiste!
Lolololololo!

Lolololololo Batiste!
Lolololololo more, more, more, more!
Lolololololo Batiste!
Lolololololo!

Lolololololo Batiste!
Lolololololo more, more, more, more!
Lolololololo Batiste!
Lolololololo!

Lolololololo Batiste!
Lolololololo more, more, more, more!
Lolololololo Batiste!
Lolololololo!

Lolololololo Batiste!
Lolololololo more, more, more, more!
Lolololololo Batiste!
Lolololololo!