You see, at times I become weary of being a man and
it sickens me to hear that all goes well,
and see sad men looking towards the south,
and not to exist if you do not look at me.
You see, sometimes I get tired of losing you and to know
that we are alone and no Guevara will reurn
to give me the explanation
I do not see you lying on my mattress.
And meanwhile,
the enormous noise of scaffolding,
little open boats and shipwrecks,
break into our dream.
And meanwhile,
if today Havana falls,
tomorrow
who will be our master?
So I sing to remember
that you are still at my side,
that you still dream awake for in this way
we overcome the weariness.
So I sing to remember
that we are still alive,
if you do not see further than your horizon
we will be lost.
You see, sometimes I get tired of being free, of being
free to sell myself and fall
dead where my freedom prefers to be,
always at the other side of your frontier.
You see, sometimes I get tired of myself and not having
courage to search for you and commit
every crime that this love requires.
"Stand and deliver, your lips or your life".
And meanwhile,
the enormous noise of scaffolding,
little open boats and shipwrecks,
break into our dream.
And meanwhile,
if the Lacandon burns
if Mark leaves,
Who will be our master?
So I sing to remember
that you are still at my side,
that you still dream awake for in this way
we overcome the weariness.
So I sing to remember
that we are still alive,
if you do not see further than your horizon
we will be lost.