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A stroll

The light was falling on the fragrant greens abloom,
When the old man walked under the moon.
So many times he'd try to stop someone to chat

My land

How sad and how bitter it is
To sit down watching all things
All the words that can do nothing
If I kill myself, I throw away that little bit of freedom
That this land, these people one day will have to give me
 
My land, my land
How beautiful it is to think of it
My land, my land,
How beautiful it is to watch it
It is not true, it is not always the same
Every day it can change.
Today is straight, tomorrow is wrong
And this life goes away
 
The old women go to church
With the crown to pray
And the fear of this death
Which doesn't want to leave us
 
My land, my land
You are full of freedom
My land, my land
I now feel the freedom
 

The boss

The boss doesn't give us any money1
He always tells us to work
And we [can] only eat the bitter part2
For that dirt measly salary that he gives us.
The boss today came to us,
He wanted to tell us:
'Be careful, everything is going to blow up'
And then he beat us.
 
[There is] so much light, there is no more misery,
In Paradise we are [finally] going well
And no-one wants to boss us around.
The Lord gives no salary at all,
[But] always tells [us] to pray:
If we pray Holy Mary
Something on the Earth may change.
 
The Lord today came to us,
He wanted to tell us:
'What's the matter with you?
Even in Heaven you must work'
[There is] so much light, it's impossible to stay here in Paradise:
Not even the dead [ones] are going well,
And we have not even bitter parts to eat3.
 

• 1. lit. 'two coins'
• 2. lit. 'We only eat the lemon'
• 3. lit. 'We have no lemon to eat'