Si se calla el cantor
Si se calla el cantor, calla la vida,
porque la vida misma es toda un canto.
Si se calla el cantor, muere de espanto,
la esperanza, la luz y la alegría.
Si se calla el cantor, se quedan solos
los humildes gorriones, de los diarios.
Los obreros del puerto, se persignan,
quién habrá de luchar, por sus salarios.
Qué ha de ser de la vida, si el que canta,
no levanta su voz en las tribunas.
Por el que sufre, por el que no hay
ninguna razón que lo condene a andar sin manta.
Si se calla el cantor, muere la rosa,
de qué sirve la rosa, sin el canto.
Debe el cantor ser luz, sobre los campos,
iluminando siempre, a los de abajo.
Que no calle el cantor porque el silencio cobarde,
apaña la maldad, que oprime.
No saben los cantores de agachadas,
no callarán jamás de frente al crimen.
Que se levanten todas las banderas
cuando el cantor se plante con su grito.
Que mil guitarras desangren en la noche,
una inmortal canción al infinito.
Si se calla el cantor, calla la vida.
If the singer is silent
If the singer is silent, life is silent,
because life itself is a whole song.
If the singer is silent, hope dies of fright,
the light and joy.
If the singer is silent, the humble sparrows are left alone,
from the newspapers.
The port workers cross themselves,
who will fight for their wages.
What will become of life if the one who sings,
does not raise his voice in the stands.
For the one who suffers, for the one who has
no reason to walk without a blanket.
If the singer is silent, the rose dies,
what good is the rose without the song.
The singer must be a light over the fields,
always illuminating those below.
Let the singer not be silent because cowardly silence,
supports the evil that oppresses.
Singers do not know how to bow down,
they will never be silent in the face of crime.
Let all the flags be raised
when the singer stands with his shout.
May a thousand guitars bleed in the night,
an immortal song to infinity.
If the singer is silent, life is silent.