Lyrics of Corbelles - ZOO

Corbelles (original)

I estic buscant tantes respostes, que oblide les preguntes que m’he fet
Guanyant en impotència al ritme que perc drets
Pensant més en desitjos que en fets, plorant de ràbia
Volent fer paredons de les parets
Tombar el mur, obrir la gàbia, eixir del pou
Rega la vida amb nova sàvia l’home nou, Hugo viu
Al rostre del seu poble que diu «D'ací no passen»
Defenen el seu pa i les seues cases
I monta un numeret el amo de la empresa
Que plora si li expropien la riquessa
Això ja no és com era, han trobat la manera
Han olorat la sang, i ara té fam la fera
Les lleis ja no són lleis si sempre fallen
El rei ja no és el rei si el cap li tallen
Vinguen les armes als meus, plouen les pedres
El poble salva al poble d’eixos putos merdes
I saludant al nou segle, trenquen el guió i les regles
I una cosa: si veniu amb colps d’Estat
Com a Cuba, com Vietnam: Caureu sense pietat!
Tempestes vénen del sud, sonen corbelles que tallen la boira
I creix una flor al mur, vol ser futur, és present, és memòria
Sents com s’esmolen les metàfores
I el so de la guillotina talla l’aire
Destinats a no tindre dret a guanyar mai
Han eixit rebotaets i el nord comença a tremolar
Guevara viu com Durruti en les paraules d’Emma Goldman
El sud somriu conscient de la seua força
L’Escola de Chicago no guia els nostres passos
Portem idees i energia a cabassos
Exprópiese, colectivízese, que el poble mane
Més enllà de ministres i presidents
Apúrense, que senten la por a la pell
Recordem els nostres morts mentre afilem el ganivet
Cochabamba, Chiapas, Haymarket
Venes obertes, corbelles esmolaes
Tenim els referents, els exemples
La selva, la defenem a maxetaes
Nuestra casa no es el patio de los gringos
Poco a poco expulsamos al imperio
I una idea que deuríem no oblidar:
Contra tota autoritat, barrà de ferro al cap!
Tempestes vénen del sud, sonen corbelles que tallen la boira
I creix una flor al mur, vol ser futur, és present, és memòria
I no seran mai més el nostre magatzem
La dignitat no es compra, el sol no es ven
Que no van a permetre que els exploten
Ni soportar el pes de noves botes
Capitalisme és barbàrie han aprés que
La història s’escriu amb la sang de qui perd, sí
Que ara són seus el café, el blat i el sucre
Que en esta Europa muerte huele a azufre
Tempestes vénen del sud, sonen corbelles que tallen la boira
I creix una flor al mur, vol ser futur, és present, és memòria

(translation)

And I'm looking forward to hearing from you
Gaining impotence at the rate he is right
Thinking more of desires than deeds, weeping with rage
They want to make walls against the walls
Break down the wall, open the cage, get out of the well
The new man, Hugo lives, waters life with new wisdom
In the face of his people who say "From here they do not pass"
They defend their bread and their homes
And the owner of the company assembles a number
That she cries if they expropriate her wealth
This is no longer how it was, they have found the way
They have smelled the blood, and now the beast is hungry
Laws are no longer laws if they always fail
The king is no longer the king if his head is cut off
Let the weapons come to me, the stones rain
The village saves the village from those fucking shit
And saluting the new century, they break the script and the rules
And one thing: if you come with coups
Like Cuba, like Vietnam: You will fall without mercy!
Storms are coming from the south, baskets are blowing that cut through the fog
And a flower grows on the wall, it wants to be future, it is present, it is memory
You feel like metaphors are being sharpened
And the sound of the guillotine cuts through the air
Destined to never have the right to win
Bounces have come out and the north is starting to shake
Guevara lives like Durruti in the words of Emma Goldman
The south smiles aware of its strength
The Chicago School does not guide our steps
We bring ideas and energy to baskets
Expropriate, collectivize, let the people rule
Beyond ministers and presidents
Hurry, they feel fear in their skin
We remember our dead as we sharpened the knife
Cochabamba, Chiapas, Haymarket
Open veins, sharp baskets
We have the references, the examples
We defend the jungle in maxetaes
Our house is not the courtyard of the gringos
Little by little we expelled the empire
And an idea we should not forget:
Against all authority, iron bar in the head!
Storms are coming from the south, baskets are blowing that cut through the fog
And a flower grows on the wall, it wants to be future, it is present, it is memory
And they will never be our warehouse again
Dignity is not bought, the sun is not sold
That they will not allow them to be exploited
Nor bear the weight of new boots
Capitalism is barbaric they have learned that
The story is written in the blood of the loser, yes
Coffee, wheat and sugar are now his
That in this Europe death smells like sulfur
Storms are coming from the south, baskets are blowing that cut through the fog
And a flower grows on the wall, it wants to be future, it is present, it is memory