En la rama de un nopal
se quejaba un pajarito:
“Todos quieren gobernar
con cadenas y con grillos.”
Ay sí, ay no,
pajarito de mi corazón.
Ay sí, ay no,
pajarito lleno de dolor.
Hermanos americanos,
levantemos la cabeza
y pidamos a los hombres
que se cumplan las promesas.
Hermanos americanos,
nuestras tierras no son pobres
pero vienen desde lejos
y nos dejan sin un cobre.
Ay sí, ay no,
pajarito de mi corazón.
Ay sí, ay no,
pajarito lleno de dolor.
Cuando un pobre pide ayuda
se la niegan al momento.
Le cuentan tantas historias
que el pobre se va contento.
Y si hay que pagar impuestos
mandarán primero al pobre
que el rico se está ocupando
de echar dinero en un sobre.
Ay sí, ay no,
pajarito de mi corazón.
Ay sí, ay no,
pajarito lleno de dolor.
La patria pide a sus hijos
el respeto y la cordura.
Los hijos dan a la patria
gobernantes de piel dura.
En la rama de un nopal
el pajarito no canta.
¡De mirar tanta injusticia
se le secó la garganta!
se quejaba un pajarito:
“Todos quieren gobernar
con cadenas y con grillos.”
Ay sí, ay no,
pajarito de mi corazón.
Ay sí, ay no,
pajarito lleno de dolor.
Hermanos americanos,
levantemos la cabeza
y pidamos a los hombres
que se cumplan las promesas.
Hermanos americanos,
nuestras tierras no son pobres
pero vienen desde lejos
y nos dejan sin un cobre.
Ay sí, ay no,
pajarito de mi corazón.
Ay sí, ay no,
pajarito lleno de dolor.
Cuando un pobre pide ayuda
se la niegan al momento.
Le cuentan tantas historias
que el pobre se va contento.
Y si hay que pagar impuestos
mandarán primero al pobre
que el rico se está ocupando
de echar dinero en un sobre.
Ay sí, ay no,
pajarito de mi corazón.
Ay sí, ay no,
pajarito lleno de dolor.
La patria pide a sus hijos
el respeto y la cordura.
Los hijos dan a la patria
gobernantes de piel dura.
En la rama de un nopal
el pajarito no canta.
¡De mirar tanta injusticia
se le secó la garganta!
Contributed by Bartleby - 2011/5/18 - 11:41
Language: English
Traduzione inglese di Barbara Dane dal disco collettivo ”Canción protesta: Protest song of Latin America” del 1970.
THE LITTLE BIRD’S COMPLAINT
Up in the branch of a cactus
a little bird was complaining:
“Everyone wants to be rulers,
rulers with chains and with shackles.”
Oh yes, oh no,
dear little bird of my heart,
oh yes, oh no,
little bird so full of pain.
Latin American brothers,
lift up your heads and be proud.
And let’s demand from “the man”
all if our promises filled.
Latin American brothers,
our land is not so poor!
But they come here from far away,
and leave us without a penny!
Oh yes, oh no,
dear little bird of my heart,
oh yes, oh no,
little bird so full of pain.
When a poor person asks for help,
they deny it on the spot.
They tell him so many stories
that he goes away thinking he’s happy.
And if there’s taxes to pay,
they send forst to the poor.
The rich man is very busy,
hiding his dough under cover.
Oh yes, oh no,
dear little bird of my heart,
oh yes, oh no,
little bird so full of pain.
The nation demands of its sons
respect and prudent wisdom.
The sons give back to their country
governors with very thick skins.
Up in the branch of a cactus
the little bird sings no more.
From looking at so much injustice
his little throat has gone dry!
Up in the branch of a cactus
a little bird was complaining:
“Everyone wants to be rulers,
rulers with chains and with shackles.”
Oh yes, oh no,
dear little bird of my heart,
oh yes, oh no,
little bird so full of pain.
Latin American brothers,
lift up your heads and be proud.
And let’s demand from “the man”
all if our promises filled.
Latin American brothers,
our land is not so poor!
But they come here from far away,
and leave us without a penny!
Oh yes, oh no,
dear little bird of my heart,
oh yes, oh no,
little bird so full of pain.
When a poor person asks for help,
they deny it on the spot.
They tell him so many stories
that he goes away thinking he’s happy.
And if there’s taxes to pay,
they send forst to the poor.
The rich man is very busy,
hiding his dough under cover.
Oh yes, oh no,
dear little bird of my heart,
oh yes, oh no,
little bird so full of pain.
The nation demands of its sons
respect and prudent wisdom.
The sons give back to their country
governors with very thick skins.
Up in the branch of a cactus
the little bird sings no more.
From looking at so much injustice
his little throat has gone dry!
Contributed by Bartleby - 2011/5/18 - 11:41
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Album “Rolando Alarcón”
Testo trovato su Cancioneros.com
Anche nella raccolta "Cancion Protesta: Protest Songs of Latin America" edita nel 1970 dall'americana Paredon/Folkways Records.