Dicen De Mí

Dicen De Mí

They say we come from lands

Not of this place

From a 3rd world

A little farther from their heaven

De montañas frías y sin gente

De pueblos pobres donde el hambre es nuestro pariente

Que venimos de vientos y corrientes

Que somos invisibles

Ya que nuestra voz no sostiene

Valor o poder

Porque somos indigentes

 

 

 

They have written their histories with our blood

Built their empires with the bones of our Gods

Erased our tongue

To implement their own

Made us the enemy

In our own home

Divided and conquered

Is how our children our born

Into a world

Where being of color

Means your are destined to mourn

The death of antepasados

Whose stories have never been told

 

 

 

Dicen que nosotros cruzamos fronteras

En el silencio de la noche

Que como criminales rompemos barreras

Ya que en nuestras mentes

El concepto de jaulas

Nos recuerda que somos salvajes

Que como animales no respetamos la ley del hombre

 

 

 

Y en las historias que cuenta

No recuerdan

That we have been here for centuries

That before their cities and factories

We used to be righteous

People of the land

With pure hearts and minds

Connected to the sun

By gods with dual energies

 

 

They forget that they have made us

Nothing more than hands

Erased minds and voice

Simple robots in a system

Where people turn profit

Where the history learned is not our own

But one manufactured

By corrupt minds and wickedness

 

 

 

Dicen

Y cuentan

Que nuestra gente

Es mito

Una leyenda

Que corre como río

Algo falso

Cause the names of our dead

Are not found in their books

 

 

 

That our existence needs their validation

Because in their progress we will remain silent

 

 

 

Y déjalos

Que te digan

Y te repitan

Que te cuenten

Y te aseguren

 

 

 

Pero no les creas

Ya que en la Guerra

El tirano no cuenta su culpa

 

 

 

Y cuando leas sus libros

Con tu nombre en ellos

No les creas

Just remember

That your stories

Are thicker than paper

They are written in flesh

Written in land

In the soil

That buries our dead

 

 

 

Nuestra Verdad

In the whispers of wind

In the rays of the sun

Your name reflected upon moons

And the spirits of our people

Alive in Pachamama’s womb

 

 

 

Let them write their books

Just remember

That the truth

Can never be erased

That our people will forever remain

 

 

 

Que en el silencio en que nos dejaron

Están nuestras historias

Que no necesitan palabras

Para ser sentidas

 

 

 

Let them tell you that your existence

Is illegal

Just know

That one day our people will know freedom