I hear, home, your sorrow, and heard the sad
forming concert, playing a dead
bell and cannon on your undefeated
banner banners floating look , and hear
rise to other regions in stanzas
funeral
of the church's prayers,
and art songs.
cry, because you insulted
which offered you
love you, who always feared for thy glory
admired;
to you, and who bowed
worlds from zone to zone;
you, pride
midwife who, free from foreign yoke, have not been more
executioner that the weight of your crown!
Wherever my mind takes swift wings,
there a tomb rises
telling your courage. From the summit
brave the Indian sun litmus
to Africa, which sacrifices their children in awkward
war
there a handful of dirt without a tomb
English! The world trembled
your legions, and the frightened
grabbed the race area
the clutches of your lions. Nobody
humbled your banners and I snatched victory;
glory because of your giant lightning
not be fruitful,
or areas of the world,
or the story book. Always
unequal fight unbeaten
sing your arrogance,
Sagunto, Cádiz, Numancia,
Zaragoza and San Marcial. In your virgin soil
no strangers root privileges;
because, wild and fierce, they do their vassals
Brake horses with foreign scepters.
And yet the earth was a man who dared to desecrate
your mantle. Space
miss my singing
to curse your name!
Without the memory surprised me, I will open forward
history;
given birth to my memory!
and the world and country, in chorus, will hear the anthem sound
your memories of glory. That genius
ambition, in his delirium deep singing
war made the world
tomb of his nation, struck the Iberian lion
longing to govern Spain;
and did not perceive, drunk with pride and
power slave
can not be
people who know how to die.
War!
cried at the altar the priest in anger;
war!
lira repeated with Savage sing
war!
waking cried as the world's people terrified, and when English
land
strange steps were heard,
to the graves were opened
shouting: Revenge and war!
The Virgin, with patriotic ardor, jumps out of bed eager
;
the baby on her chest child
deadly hatred of the invader;
the mother kills her love
and when calm is, the child cries
to be :
"Well, the country wants,
jump into the fight, and die:
avenge your mother!" And sound
singing patriotic songs holy duties;
and go hoarse
women pushing the barrels,
free banners at the bottom of the cry of parental
hums and rumbles rugged canyon, and the vile invader
panics,
and the soil lacks
ground to cover so grave! Martyrs
loyalty, honor
that you were the lullaby
of parental pride and honor of humanity, in the grave
rest!
the Iberian
swears brave people with haughty face
that, until Spain has fallen, not set foot in your grave
plant abroad!
An immortal people killed. Pardon the expression paradoxical. The immortality of a people is precisely that: they do not die when he is murdered.
did not die then because the steaming blood of those martyrs did the war of independence
"Those who gave were not really face the learned. Those Napoleon spent the measles, and in the name of the new ideas they had stopped shaving as fifth and imposing imperial uniform. Those who survived were the ignorant Spain , who could not read or write ... The only decent role that Spain has played in European politics has shown that an artist ignorant people so ignorant and genial as he, Goya, symbolized by man or beast, with open arms, chest out, challenging eyes, roars d before the bullets that besiege him. "
0 comments:
Post a Comment