Текст и перевод песни SES - Serei Curiosa

Serei Curiosa

Nunha exacta foto do diario,
Señor ministro do destruír,
En pleno gozo e en plena euforia
E en plena risa o seu rostro aí.

Serei curiosa señor ministro:
De que se ri, de que se ri?

Polas súas fiestras a praia vese
Mais non hai vistas aos barrios ruíns.
Teñen seus fillos ollos de mando
Pero hai ollares só de sufrir.

Aquí na rúa suceden cousas
Que nin sequera podo dicir,
A xente boa segue loitando,
Vostedes seguen a delinquir.

Por iso digo señor ministro:
De qué se ri, de que se ri?

Vostedes saben perfectamente
A lei amarga deste País.
Son crueis e duros coa nosa xente,
Por que con outros son tan servís?

Mentres traizoan o patrimonio
Ao poderoso vanlle sorrir,
Así enganan vostede e outros,
Os arrastrados e os senís.

Por iso digo señor ministro:
De que se ri, de que se ri?

Aquí na rúa os seus gardas matan
E os que morren son coma min,
E os que quedamos chorando rabia
Só contemplamos o resistir.

Aló no cárcere hai torturas
E iso a nada o vai conducir,
Despois de todo vostede é o pau
Maior dun barco que hai que afundir

Serei curiosa, sr. Ministro:
De que se rí, de que se rí?

I Will Be Curious

In an exact picture of the newspaper,
Mr. Minister of Destruction,
In full joy and in full euphoria
And in full laughter your face is there.

I will be curious Mr. Minister:
What are you laughing at, what are you laughing at?

Through your windows the beach can be seen
But there are no views of the slums.
Your children have eyes of command
But there are eyes only of suffering.

Here in the street things happen
That I can't even say,
The good people keep fighting,
You people keep on committing crimes.

That's why I say Mr. Minister:
What are you laughing at, what are you laughing at?

You people know perfectly well
The bitter law of this country.
You are cruel and harsh with our people,
Why are you so servile with others?

While you betray the heritage
You will smile at the powerful,
Thus you and others deceive,
The creeps and the senseless.

That's why I say Mr. Minister:
What are you laughing at, what are you laughing at?

Here in the street your guards kill
And those who die are like me,
And those of us who are left crying with rage
Only contemplate resisting.

There's torture in prison
And that will lead to nothing,
After all you are the pole
Greater than a ship that must be sunk

I will be curious, Mr. Minister:
What are you laughing at, what are you laughing at?