We are 5,000 — here in this little part of the city
We are 5,000 — how many more will there be?
In the whole city, and in the country 10,000 hands
Which could seed the fields, make run the factories.
How much humanity — now with hunger, pain, panic and terror?
There are six of us — lost in space among the stars,
One dead, one beaten like I never believed a human could be so beaten.
The other four wanting to leave all the terror,
One leaping into space, other beating their heads against the wall
All with gazes fixed on death.
The military carry out their plans with precision;
Blood is medals for them, Slaughter is the badge of heroism.
Oh my God — is this the world you created?
Was it for this, the seven days, of amazement and toil?
The blood of companero Presidente is stronger than bombs
Is stronger than machine guns.
O you song, you come out so badly when I must sing — the terror!
What I see I never saw. What I have felt, and what I feel must come out!
"Hara brotar el momento! Hara brotar el momento!"