mdearstyne:

So I know I’ve already posted the music video for this song, but this performance from the Latin Grammys last night deserves posting as well.  I tried to translate the lyrics earlier this semester for class, so here they are.

Latinoamérica - Calle 13

I am
I am what they left behind
I am everything that’s left from what they took
A town, hidden on the mountaintops
My skin is leather, I can take any climate
I’m a factory of smoke
A worker’s hand for your consumption
A cold front in the middle of summer
Love in the time of cholera, brother
The sun that is born and the day that dies
And the best of afternoons
I’m development in living flesh
A political speech without saliva
The most beautiful faces I’ve ever seen
I’m the photo of a “disappeared”
I’m the blood in your veins
I’m a piece of land that’s worth the effort
I’m a basket of beans
I’m Maradona against England scoring two goals
I’m what my flag represents
My mountain ranges are the spine of the continent
I’m what my father taught me,
That he who doesn’t love his homeland doesn’t love his mother
I’m América Latina
A pueblo without legs which somehow still walks

You can’t buy the wind
You can’t buy the sun
You can’t buy the rain
You can’t buy the heat
You can’t by the clouds
You can’t by the colors
You can’t buy my happiness
You can’t buy my pain

I have lakes, I have rivers
I show my teeth when I smile
The snow decorates my mountains
I’ve got the sun which dries me and the rain which washes me
A desert intoxicated with beauty from a trago de pulque
I sing with the coyotes, I have all that I need
I have my lungs breathing in clear blue
The suffocating heights
I’m the molars of my mouth chewing coca
Autumn with its fallen leaves
Verses written beneath a star filled sky
A vine heavy with grapes
A cañaveral beneath the Cuban sun
I’m the Caribbean Sea which watches over its little houses
With its rituals of holy water
The wind which combs my hair
I’m all the saints which hang from my neck
The fruit of my struggle isn’t artificial
Because the compost of my land is natural

We go forth walking,
And by walking, creating our path
You can’t buy my life
And my land isn’t for sale

I work hard but with pride
Here we share, what’s mine is yours
Our pueblos don’t drown in their lies
And if something falls apart, I’ll rebuild it
I don’t blink when I look at you
So you’ll remember my name
Operation Condor invading my nest,
I’ll forgive but I’ll never forget

Here we breathe struggle
I sing so that you’ll listen

Here we’re standing tall
Long live Latin America!