الصناديق

28 Sept 2011

Calle 13 Latinoamerica: Un Pueblo Sin Piernas Pero que Camina

Ver este video es para mi un recorrido en mi memoria de las aventuras y experiencias que he tenido durante los últimos 10 años, conociendo a la hermosa América Latina que tanto amo y que vine a conocer y hacer conocer al mundo árabe 



Calle 13 - Latinoamérica 
Directores Jorge Carmona y Milovan Radovic 
Productor Alejandro Noriega
Patria Producciones

3 comments:

  1. You can not buy the wind,
    You can not buy the sun
    You can not buy the rain,
    You can not buy the heat
    You can not buy the clouds,
    You can not buy the colors
    You can not buy my happiness,
    You can not buy my pain.

    ur dream is still there, it's just the politics that is ugly :)

    ReplyDelete
  2. (The translation will more or less give you an idea of the song)

    I am what they left
    I am all too well what they stole
    A village hidden in the top
    My skin is leather
    So whatever the weather holds

    I am a smoke factory
    Peasant labor for your consumption
    Cold front in the middle of summer
    Love in the Time of Cholera my brother

    The sun is born and the day I die
    With the best sunsets
    I'm raw development
    A political speech without saliva

    The most beautiful faces I have known
    I am the picture of a missing
    The blood in your veins
    I am a piece of land worth

    A basket with beans
    I maradona against england
    Anotándote two goals
    Am I holding my flag
    The backbone of the planet is my mountain

    I am what my father taught me
    He who does not love her country
    No mother wants her
    I latin america
    A people without legs but walking

    You can not buy the wind,
    You can not buy the sun
    You can not buy the rain,
    You can not buy the heat
    You can not buy the clouds,
    You can not buy the colors
    You can not buy my happiness,
    You can not buy my pain

    I have the lakes, I have the rivers
    I have my teeth pa 'when I smile
    The snow that makes up my mountains
    I have the sun dry me and the rain washes me

    A drunk with peyote desert
    A drink of pulque to sing with the coyotes
    All I need
    I have my lungs breathing light blue

    The height that stifles
    I am the teeth in my mouth, chewing coca
    The leaves fall with unconsciousness
    Verses written under the starry night

    A vineyard full of grapes
    A cane in the sun in Cuba
    I'm watching the Caribbean Sea to the cottages
    By holy water ritual

    The wind was combing my hair
    I'm all saints hanging from my neck
    The juice of my struggle is not artificial
    Because the payment of my land is natural


    You can not buy the wind,
    You can not buy the sun
    You can not buy the rain,
    You can not buy the heat
    You can not buy the clouds,
    You can not buy the colors
    You can not buy my happiness,
    You can not buy my pain

    Gross but proudly work
    Here we share, mine is yours
    These people do not drown by Marullo
    And if it collapses, I rebuilt it

    Nor blink when I look
    For you to remember my name
    Operation Condor invading my nest
    I forgive but never forget

    We walk
    Here, you will fight
    We walk
    I sing because you hear

    We draw the path
    We stand
    We walk
    Here we stand

    ReplyDelete
  3. Lindo!! Poesia pura!! Nos versos, nas imagens, na melodia, na beleza das pessoas e da humanidade da gente que ainda resiste às mazelas de tantos séculos de exploração, com a mesma esperança de quando chegaram as caravelas européias. América Latina é minha nação!!

    ReplyDelete