Las Cosas Por Su Nombre
Eso que dice mi gente
Con pocas palabras y tanto respeto
Andando caminos, a veces inciertos
Y siempre adelante, naciendo y muriendo
Eso que inunda las calles
Con cada mirada, con cada silencio
Del hombre que lucha y construye sus sueños
A veces ganando y a veces perdiendo
Eso que algunos regalan
O venden en cuotas a muy bajo precio
Sintiéndose luego vacíos por dentro
Buscando razones, negando y mintiendo
Eso que algunos escriben
Y que luego esconden, temblando de miedo
Sintiendo la fuerza tremenda del viento
Que crece al oir su voz
Eso que ronda en el aire
En todos los tiempos y en todos los pueblos
Sembrando la tierra, golpeando el acero
Buscando horizontes, pensando y sintiendo
Eso que un día mi padre
Trató de explicarme con tantos ejemplos
Viviendo su vida de cada momento
Mirando al destino con ojos sinceros
Eso que algunos regalan
O venden en cuotas a muy bajo precio
Sintiéndose luego vacíos por dentro
Buscando razones, negando y mintiendo
Eso que algunos escriben
Y que luego esconden, temblando de miedo
Sintiendo la fuerza tremenda del viento
Que crece al oir su voz
Eso se llama libertad!
Eso se llama ternura
Se llama coraje, se llama locura
Se llama mi amigo, mi patria, mi sueño
Se llama mis manos, se llama te quiero
Eso se llama libertad!
Eso se llama ternura
Se llama coraje, se llama locura
Se llama mi amigo, mi patria, mi sueño
Se llama mis manos, se llama te quiero
Eso se llama libertad!
Calling Things By Their Name
That which my people say
With few words and so much respect
Walking paths, sometimes uncertain
And always forward, being born and dying
That which floods the streets
With every glance, with every silence
Of the man who fights and builds his dreams
Sometimes winning and sometimes losing
That which some give away
Or sell in installments at a very low price
Later feeling empty inside
Searching for reasons, denying and lying
That which some write
And then hide, trembling with fear
Feeling the tremendous force of the wind
That grows upon hearing their voice
That which lingers in the air
In all times and in all towns
Sowing the earth, striking the steel
Seeking horizons, thinking and feeling
That which one day my father
Tried to explain to me with so many examples
Living his life in every moment
Looking at destiny with sincere eyes
That which some give away
Or sell in installments at a very low price
Later feeling empty inside
Searching for reasons, denying and lying
That which some write
And then hide, trembling with fear
Feeling the tremendous force of the wind
That grows upon hearing their voice
That is called freedom!
That is called tenderness
It's called courage, it's called madness
It's called my friend, my homeland, my dream
It's called my hands, it's called I love you
That is called freedom!
That is called tenderness
It's called courage, it's called madness
It's called my friend, my homeland, my dream
It's called my hands, it's called I love you
That is called freedom!