1. "Once again they want to stain the soil with workers’ blood, those who speak of freedom but have dirt on their hands. They are those who want to separate the mother from her children, and who want to rebuild the cross that crucifies Christ."

    Song: Vientos del pueblo [Winds of the People]
    Into Illimani Histórico + Quilapayún
    Author: Víctor Jara - Chile
    Album: Manifiesto [Canciones póstumas]

    De nuevo quieren manchar mi tierra con sangre obrera,
    los que hablan de libertad y tienen las manos negras,
    los que quieren dividir a la madre du sus hijos
    y quieren reconstruir la cruz que arrastrara Cristo.

    Quieren ocultar la infamia que legaron desde siglos
    pero el color de asesinos no borrarán de su cara.
    Ya fueron miles y miles los que entregaron su sangre
    y en caudales generosos multiplicaron los panes.

    Ahora quiero vivir, junto a mi hijo y mi hermano,
    la primavera que todos vamos construyendo a diario.
    No me asusta la amenaza, patrones de la miseria.
    La estrella de la esperanza continuará siendo nuestra.

    Vientos del pueblo me llaman, vientos del pueblo me llevan.
    Me esparcen el corazón y me avientan la garganta.
    Así cantará el poeta mientras el alma me suene
    por los caminos del pueblo desde ahora y para siempre.

  2. Inti Illimani - La segunda independencia (en vivo en Italia, 1975)

    yo que soy americano, no importa de qué país, quiero que mi continente viva algún día feliz.

    I, being american—no matter from which country—want my continent to live happily one day.


  3. Mexican communist singer Judith Reyes sings a “Song about [President] Echeverria’s trip to Cuba” from her 1976 album, Iztacalco and the Poor People’s Revolution of Latin America.

    Dices que México lindo no va para el socialismo, pero que tampoco estamos dentro del capitalismo. Propones la democracia social, cual nuevo sistema? Respóndeme, Presidente: que clase en ésta gobierna? Porque en el capitalismo gobierna la burguesía, gobierna y explota al hombre y acosa como jauría. En cambio el proletariado es quien manda en el socialismo, pero socialdemocracia es igual que el capitalismo!

    You say that beautiful Mexico isn’t going to go socialist, but that neither are we really capitalist. You propose social democracy, but what’s new about that? Answer me, President: in that system, what class governs? Because in capitalism the bourgeoisie governs, it governs and exploits man, and harasses him like a pack of dogs. In contrast, the proletariat is who rules in socialism, but social democracy is the same thing as capitalism!

  4. Atahualpa Yupanqui - Tierra Querida [estilo zamba argentina]

    "Lunas me vieron por esos cerros, y en las llanuras anochecidas, buscando el alma de tus paisajes para cantarte, tierra querida."

  5. La lora proletaria by Jorge Velosa (this version sung by Enrique Ballesté) is a Colombian folk protest song from the 1970s condemning exploitation and state repression. The song revolves around a “working-class parrot” that attempts to instigate rebellion by telling people that, united, they can defeat their oppressors. The military kills the parrot for its subversion, and the parrot dies repeating the phrase “why do you let yourselves be screwed over?”

    There was once a parrot,
    and that parrot said to me
    "are they still screwing you over?"
    and I said “yes, still.”

    That parrot said to me,
    "why do you let them do it?
    if you come together to fight them,
    nobody can stop you.”

    Someone who heard the shots
    said that it was a soldier
    one of the ones they are paying
    to come and kill us

    And the parrot, seeing itself injured,
    said to the soldier
    "If you are one of the people,
    why are you on the other side?”

  6. Música izquierdista de la Argentina, 1968


  7. "Hay una alumbre en Asturias que calienta España entera, y es que allí se ha levantado toda la cuenca minera… Empezaron los mineros y los obreros fabriles. Si siguen los campesinos, seremos cientos de miles."


  8. Homenaje a Salvador Allende, grabado en 1976.


  9. My favorite song of the past couple of weeks, from the pampas of Argentina.

    quien vive, la patria, gente, paisanos
    quien vive, sus hijos, los americanos
    quien vive, la patria, gente, paisanos
    quien vive, sus hijos, los americanos

    atención militares, que voy a mandar
    armas al hombro, cuadrar y marchar
    por el flanco derecho, paso regular
    por el flanco derecho, paso regular
    protección por la izquierda, por la derecha
    arrimen los cañones, prendan la mecha
    que el enemigo viene abriendo brecha
    que el enemigo viene abriendo brecha


  10. In commemoration of the 34th anniversary of the Nicaraguan Revolution today, July 19th, 1979. (I wrote most of this a couple of years ago, and it’s just been sitting in my drafts folder… I hope you like it!)

    "What’s the confusion?" asked the sergeant,
    "Could it be that this bastard is the notorious Cadejo?"

    If there is one thing the Sandinistas took really seriously, it was the honoring its heroes and fallen comrades.

    The double-LP Canto Epico al FSLN, from which today’s song comes, features, among its 35 songs, 12 homages to martyrs of the Frente Sandinista de Liberación Nacional dedicated to Casimiro Sotelo, Pedro Aráuz Palacios, Eduardo Contreras, Julio Buitrago, Luisa Amanda Espinoza, Carlos Fonseca, Leonel Rugama, José Benito Escobar, Camilo Ortega, Germán Pomares, Edgard Munguía, and the topic of today’s post, my all-time favorite revolutionary, Rigoberto Cruz… better known as Pablo Úbeda.

    Úbeda was one of the earliest members of the FSLN, having been a participant in the Nicaraguan Revolutionary Youth (JRN) of 1959 and the New Nicaragua Movement (MNN) of 1962, two of the predecessor organizations to the Frente. Unlike the primarily student-based FSLN membership, Úbeda was a worker, and thus valuable in his ability to both relate to, and blend in among, the general population.

    He participated in the FSLN’s first guerrilla action in 1963 commonly known as Raití-Bocay or the Río Coco and Bocay Operation, a spectacular failure that, for a short while after, pushed the group away from armed struggle and toward reformist politics. The analysis to later come from FSLN leader Carlos Fonseca stated that the failure at Raití-Bocay was due in large part to an incorrect choice of locations; the town of Raití was largely populated by Miskito Indians who spoke little Spanish and often had little interest in the guerrillas. Because their relationship to the land (and to the rest of Nicaragua) was different from mestizo peasants, the FSLN was unable to relate and win over supporters that could assist with intelligence and supply lines, nor did its presence inspire a pool of potential recruits. In addition, Sandinista commander Víctor Tirado López notes, in his essay El FSLN, un producto y una necesidad históricos, that the operation demonstrated an overemphasis on armed struggle without undertaking corresponding political work, that it showed that links with the peasantry must be strong rather than fleeting to create a solid guerrilla base, and that the long-established Nicaraguan tradition of preparing armed ‘invasions’ from across the Honduran or Costa Rican borders could not be successful (1).

    It is worthwhile here to refer again to the writings of Carlos Fonseca in order to lay the groundwork for understanding Ubeda’s contribution. In Fonseca’s 1969 declaration, Nicaragua Hora Cero (Zero Hour), he points out that this defeat, along with the general decline of the Nicaraguan popular movement around 1963 (2), shattered the FSLN and thrust it into a period of quasi-reformism. While the Frente still maintained that armed struggle was the only way to achieve victory, “the reality was that for a while the practical work to continue preparing for armed struggle was interrupted. In addition, it is true that after the defeat in 1963, our movement emerged seriously conflicted, but didn’t know how to find the proper way to overcome this internal crisis.” (Obra Fundamental, pp. 152-153) Fonseca doesn’t argue against the period of recuperation, but rather notes that the FSLN failed to use this time to collect resources or train new combatants for a renewed attempt at waging war against the veiled dictatorship of the Somoza family.

    During this time between 1964 and 1966, the FSLN engaged in quasi-legal organizing with an organization known as the Republican Mobilization in urban areas, attempting to develop a broader anti-Somoza front.

    Ubeda, however, was one of the few members to remain in the mountains during this period of strategic confusion. As a leader of the Frente’s clandestine work during its brief above-ground phase, his assignment was to develop contacts with potential allies and collaborators and to seek out the prime location for the resumption of armed struggle. In the process, he became an organizer of some of the first peasant unions in Nicaragua, alongside fellow Sandinista Bernardino Diaz Ochoa. The work of Ubeda is summed up quite succinctly by Tomás Borge, commander and founder of the Frente, in his 1985 essay Marginal Notes on the Propaganda of the FSLN:

    Three consecutive years of underground work visiting everyone, hut by hut, household by household, ravine by ravine, from Pancasán passing through Peñas Blancas in Jinotega and following the Tuma River until he arrived on the Atlantic Coast where he traveled the long footpaths through the mining areas… Without his organizing work, Pancasán would never have been possible.

    In 1967, Ubeda was killed, along with FSLN founding member Silvio Mayorga and the rest of his unit, during the Pancasán campaign. While also a failure, the Sandinistas analyzed that this was a failure of a different type than that of Raití-Bocay; whereas the latter had been a failure on all fronts, Pancasán demonstrated a military failure but one in which political groundwork had been successfully laid—in part by the efforts of Úbeda—to maintain the activities of the revolutionary struggle.

    We will note in the lyrics that Carlos Mejía Godoy makes various references to Nicaraguan particularities; the opening stanza, for example, refers to animals and plants that I had never heard of before (and which you can read about by clicking the links I provided). We hear about Carlos Reyna, the National Guard, the cadejo, a juez de mesta, three towns, and three kinds of crops useful for hiding.

    Anyway, I hope you all dig the song and the little history lesson! You’ll find an English translation below.

    (1) On a few occasions before the formation of the FSLN, opposition groups, largely under the hegemony of the Conservative Party, attempted armed invasions of Nicaragua to overthrow the Somoza family’s hold on power. The 1959 El Chaparral guerrilla operation in which Carlos Fonseca participated (as a member of the Nicaraguan Socialist Party) was an unmitigated disaster, and ended up being the last attempt by the mainstream opposition to overthrow Somoza with force.

    (2) Fonseca attributes this to the farcical election of René Schick, a Somoza family ally, as president in the 1963 election and the natural decline of the revolutionary energy following the Cuban Revolution, at that point 4 years past.


    Se disfraza de espadillo, se disfraza de mozote
    y se convierte en pocoyo, conejo, garrobo, cusuco, pizote.

    Pablo Ubeda pasó ayer mismo muy temprano,
    Carlos Reyna lo encontró allá en el comisariato.

    Pero cómo sucedió? Si ayer en la madrugada
    el juez de mesta lo vio cruzándose la cañada.

    ¿Qué será esta confusión? se preguntaba el sargento,
    ¿no será que este cabrón es el mentado Cadejo?

    Lo vieron en Kuskawas, en La Tronca y en Waslala,
    ya no lo verán jamás, se lo tragó la montaña.

    Lo ayudan los vientos, las siete cabritas
    lo oculta el chagüite, lo esconde la milpa.

    La guardia dispara contra el cafetal…
    y sale Pablito sereno, pajito, bordeando el cañal.


    He disguises himself as espadillo, he disguises himself as mozote
    and he becomes a pauraque, a rabbit, an iguana, an armadillo, a coati.

    Pablo Ubeda passed by very early yesterday,
    Carlos Reyna (1) found him there in the commissary.

    But how did it happen, if yesterday morning
    the juez de mesta (2) saw him crossing the ravine?

    "What’s the confusion?" asked the sergeant,
    "Could it be that this bastard is the notorious Cadejo (3)?

    They saw him in Kuskawas, in La Tronca and in Waslala (4),
    but they will never see him again, he was swallowed by the mountain.

    He is helped by the winds, by the seven young kids,
    he is obscured by the banana stalks, he is hidden by the cornfield.

    The National Guard shoots at the coffee plants….
    and Pablito comes out calm, covered in straw, walking along the canal.

    (1) Carlos Reyna was an early member of the FSLN, joining the Frente after participating in the MNN. He was killed during the 1967 Pancasán operation along with Úbeda, Commander Silvio Mayorga, and a full third of the guerrilla force.

    (2) In Somoza-era Nicaragua, a juez de mesta was a middle/upper-class person in the countryside designated to resolve land disputes between peasants. During the Sandinista revolution, jueces de mesta were converted largely into a network of informants for the National Guard, during which time they were also called orejas, or ears.

    (3) The cadejo in Central America is a mythical dog known to accompany those who wander late at night. In most countries, it is believed that there are two cadejos: the white, which is considered a benign protector and is compared with the Christian concept of a guardian angel, and the black, which is the embodiment of evil and is the opposite of the white (racist). Pablo Úbeda’s informal title was El Cadejo de las Segovias, the Segovias being a forest in north-central Nicaragua.

    (4) Three remote areas northeast of Matagalpa in north-central Nicaragua.


    1. Borge, Tomas. “The Patient Impatience”.

    2. Zimmerman, Matilde. “Sandinista: Carlos Fonseca and the Nicaraguan Revolution”.

    3. Baracco, Luciano. “Nicaragua: The Imagining of a Nation”.



    "I am the armor piercer, I am the guide,
    I’m forever an expert of the night
    The happy firefly of the guerrilla,
    I am the compass of a tough bullet.”

    Carlos & Luis Enrique Mejia Godoy's 1979 album Guitarra Armada may not have been a musical perfection; the rhymes were often simplistic, the singing sometimes subpar. Still, this remains one of my favorite albums if only for its incredible historical significance.

    Recorded shortly after the Sandinista National Liberation Front’s (FSLN) overthrow of Anastasio Somoza Debayle and its arrival in Managua on July 19, 1979, the album features a collection of songs which had dispersed among the revolutionary forces during the course of the popular insurrection, which had begun on a national scale in the final months of 1978 as a result of both the assassination of Pedro Joaquin Chamorro, editor of La Prensa, that January and the FSLN’s assault of the Presidential Palace in August.

    Despite this bold action, in 1978 the FSLN was a small, weak, and divided organization. Its leader, Carlos Fonseca, had been killed in action two years earlier, it was split into three factions, and by the beginning of that year had a membership of likely less than 200 militants, including its rural guerrilla army of 11 people.

    But as the insurrection took hold in previously inactive sections of the population, the FSLN took note that, despite the courage and audacity of the people, most had little to no military training, either in tactical maneuvering or in in the use of arms. Weapons manuals were not widely available, and would not do much good anyway: around half of the Nicaraguan population was functionally illiterate.

    The Mejía Godoy brothers Carlos and Luis Enrique, both members of the FSLN, took it upon themselves to try something creative. Given the small size of the Frente, it did not have the capacity to teach everyone street fighting or weapons use. So the brothers began writing and recording songs with the intention of creating easily dispersible and memorizable tracks with full instructions in military training. This song, called The Munitions, was written to instruct participants of the insurrection on the purpose and use of different kinds of ammunition—standard ammunition, incendiary bullets, tracers, and the fragmentation grenade. Four singers each take on the perspective of a particular ammunition and sing about their qualities in different battle scenarios. [Unfortunately I do not have the album booklet and can’t recognize any of the women singers except that of Mexican folk musician Amparo Ochoa, who takes on the perspective of the standard bullet.]

    This creativity and ability to respond to the moment was immensely helpful in allowing the FSLN (reunited into a single organization in January of 1979) and the Nicaraguan people to defeat Anastasio Somoza’s National Guard, one of the most disciplined and best armed military forces in Latin America, and to begin a revolutionary process based in new institutions of popular power.

    You’ll find an English translation below, done to the best of my abilities. Enjoy!


    Compañero, estas balas fueron recuperadas en la caida de Matagalpa. O sea, son balas que sirvieron al enemigo. Pero ahora que las tenemos nosotros, ya no son las mismas. Sabes por que, compita? Porque estas balas nos estan sirviendo ahora para conquistar la libertad.

    Echele borona compita Venancio, de las municiones écheme un sermón
    yo prefiero hermano, que por separado, haga cada bala su presentación.

    Yo por ser la común y ordinaria, me siento en un nivel muy inferior
    Soy la bala certera endemoniada, henchida de eficacia y de rigor
    Cobriza como un indio americano, por ser de furia voy a lo que voy
    desde que salgo al viento, voy buscando el mero corazón del opresor

    Yo soy la munición por excelencia, sin despreciar a nadie en esta lid
    mis posibilidades en la guerra explican el porque yo estoy aquí
    Como incendiaria grito “siempre lista!” y como perforante rauda voy
    Yo soy la rojinegra sandinista, yo soy por vocación la munición

    Yo soy la trazadora combativa, anaranjado vivo mi color
    No tengo propiedades expansivas, pero hago lo que puedo en mi fulgor
    Yo soy la quiebra placa, soy la guía, baqueana de la noche siempre fui
    Luciérnaga feliz de la guerrilla, soy brújula del recio proyectil.

    Yo que puedo decir de mis valores, si ni siquiera tengo proyectil?,
    Es como sin tener mecha ni llama, quisiera ser antorcha o ser candil
    En mi viudez de cápsula vacia, va el alma del hermano que cayó,
    lanzando en el umbral de su partida una granada de fragmentación.


    Compañero, these bullets were recovered during the fall of Matagalpa. In other words, they are bullets that served the enemy. But now that we have them, they are no longer the same. Do you know why, comrade? Because these bullets are now serving us in the quest for freedom.

    Sing it, comrade Venancio, give me a sermon about our munitions
    and I’d prefer, brother, that they each give me a separate presentation

    I, being the common and ordinary one, feel like I’m on an inferior level
    I am a damn accurate bullet, bursting with efficiency and rigor
    Copper like an indigenous American, in my fury I go where I wish
    from the time I enter the wind, I search for the heart of the oppressor

    I am the most excellent bullet without belittling anyone in this contest
    my potential in war explains the reason that I am here
    As an incendiary I shout “always ready!”, and as an piercer I am swift
    I am the Sandinista red-and-black, I am a munition by profession

    I am the combative tracer, bright orange is my color
    I don’t have expansive properties, but I do what I can with my glow
    I am the armor piercer, I am the guide, I’m forever an expert of the night
    The happy firefly of the guerrilla, I am the compass of a tough bullet

    What can I say of my value if I don’t even have a projectile?
    It’s like not having a wick or flame, I’d love to be a torch or candle
    In my empty-capsule widowhood goes the soul of a fallen comrade,
    launching a fragmentation grenade on the eve of his departure


  12. "Now the Eagle has suffered one of its greatest injuries:
    Nicaragua hurts him, he is hurt by the love.
    And it hurts him that children are going healthily to school,
    because from that wood of justice and affection,
    he cannot sharpen his claws.”

    One of famed Cuban trovador Silvio Rodríguez’s most underrated songs is this beautiful salute to the people of Nicaragua, first released on the album Unicornio in 1982—3 years after the July 19th victory of the Sandinista Revolution that I’m commemorating today through posting these songs. Titled Urgent Song for Nicaragua, its release coincides with the heightening of US intervention in the country through mass funding of the right-wing Contra rebels, at a time when Nicaragua was particularly on alert against a direct military invasion by the empire.

    You’ll find an English translation at the bottom. Note that Silvio’s use of “Eagle” here refers to the United States. I also recommend watching this video, which is a live recording of this song being performed in Managua, Nicaragua in 1984, and best of all it has embedded English subtitles! Enjoy!


    Se partió en Nicaragua otro hierro caliente
    con que el águila daba su señal a la gente
    Se partió en Nicaragua otra soga con cebo
    con que el águila ataba por el cuello al obrero

    Se ha prendido la hierba dentro del continente
    las fronteras se besan y se ponen ardientes
    Me recuerdo de un hombre que por esto moría
    y que viendo este día-como espectro del monte-
    jubiloso reía

    El espectro es Sandino con Bolívar y el Che
    porque el mismo camino caminaron los tres
    Estos tres caminantes con idéntica suerte
    ya se han hecho gigantes, ya burlaron la muerte

    Ahora el aguila tiene su dolencia mayor
    Nicaragua le duele, pues le duele el amor
    Y le duele que el niño vaya sano a la escuela
    porque de esa madera, de justicia y cariño,
    no se afila su espuela

    Andará Nicaragua su camino en la gloria
    porque fue sangre sabia la que hizo su historia
    Te lo dice un hermano que ha sangrado contigo
    te lo dice un cubano, te lo dice un amigo.


    In Nicaragua another hot iron has been broken
    with which the Eagle branded its subjects.
    In Nicaragua another hangman’s noose has been broken,
    that the Eagle would attach to the neck of the worker

    The grass of the continent has caught fire,
    the borders kiss and begin to burn.
    I am reminded of a man who died for this
    and who, seeing this day as a specter in the mountain,
    laughed with joy.

    The specter is Sandino with Bolivar and Che,
    because the three all walked the same path.
    These three walkers with the same destiny
    have become giants, they have laughed at death.

    Now the Eagle has suffered one of its greatest injuries:
    Nicaragua hurts him, he is hurt by the love.
    And it hurts him that children are going healthily to school,
    because from that wood of justice and affection,
    he cannot sharpen his claws.

    Nicaragua will walk its road in glory,
    because it was wise blood that made its history.
    I tell you as a brother that has bled with you,
    I tell you as a Cuban, I tell you as a friend.


  13. "Long live the Sandinistas, Nicaragua is ready!"

    This is a traditional cueca recorded by the Chilean ensemble ¡Karaxú! either the day of, or in the days right after, the victory of the Sandinista Revolution in Nicaragua on July 19th, 1979 (we are celebrating the 34th anniversary today). ¡Karaxú! was a group formed in exile in 1974 that was politically supportive of the banned Chilean MIR (Revolutionary Left Movement) and originally led by Patricio Manns. This album, officially untitled but known colloquially as “La Bahía,” was released in 1979 and recorded in Copenhagen, Denmark; ¡Karaxú! toured European countries playing shows and raising funds for the resistance to the Chilean military dictatorship.

    In the song we can hear references to “liberated Managua” and “the tyrant [Anastasio Somoza] and his [familial] dynasty.” It’s very short (1:46), as are most cuecas, and well worth a listen if you’re interested in marking this anniversary with me! Viva Nicaragua!

    la vida
    se me enciende, se me enciende el corazón
    la vida por el pueblo, por el pueblo ‘e Nicaragua
    la vida como quisie’, como quisiera este día
    la vida ver Managua, ver Managua liberada
    la vida se me enciende, se me enciende el corazón

    caiga el tirano, caiga, y con él su dinastia
    que dos mil amapolas florezcan en este día
    caiga, el tirano, caiga, y con él su dinastia
    su dinastia, sí, obreros y campesinos
    van tomando los pueblos por el nombre de Sandino
    caiga, el tirano, caiga, obreros y campesinos
    que vivan los Sandinistas, Nicaragua ya se alista!


  14. "My rest is to finish my work,
    my happiness is to fulfill my duty.
    So that the world may be more human,
    we have sworn to fight until victory!”

    Here’s a great song from the Salvadoran Civil War, by one of the most popular revolutionary groups of the era—Los Torogoces de Morazán. The quality is pretty bad because this was recorded in the guerrilla zones with the portable equipment of Radio Venceremos, but still understandable and very historically relevant.

    Soy combatiente del FMLN, guerrillero nacido en El Salvador.

    Me deleitan los colores que tiene mi bandera flameante bajo el sol!

    Por los cerros, vaguadas y volcanes se oye el canto ancestral del torogoz.
    Sus cantares impulsan mis afanes, mi divisa es ver libre a mi nación!
    Mi descanso es cumplir con mi tarea, mi alegría es cumplir con mi deber.
    Para que el mundo mas humano sea, hemos jurado luchar hasta vencer!

    Mis hermanos son los trabajadores que combaten la necia explotación,
    mi familia es todo el pueblo pobre, mi madrecita es la revolución.

    Por los cerros…….


  15. "The blood that is shed by your children
    is as if it were our own, it is the same.
    Ours is the pain and the pride of their heroism;
    we fight the same struggle and walk the same road.”

    A really communist song, written by Uruguayan revolutionary musician Aníbal Sampayo, whose title translates as The Same Trench. Sung by Susi Misa, La Misma Trinchera is an anthem of armed struggle and internationalism among the oppressed countries of the third world. This album was released in 1983, contextualizing in particular the references to the revolutions in Grenada and Nicaragua. Emblazoned on the cover of this hard-to-find LP is an image of indigenous rebel leader Tupac Amaru II, the namesake of the Uruguayan Tupamaro guerrillas who rocked that country at the turn of the 70s. Give it a listen!

    Cuba primero, Cuba que al mundo grita
    que no es tan fiero lobo como lo pintan.
    Ha derrotado los yanquis, Cuba es la guía,
    su llama en Centroamérica está encendida.
    Grenada y Nicaragua logran dos nuevos
    triunfos de independencia para sus pueblos.
    Suriname y Guyana son otro ejemplo
    al quitarse cadenas de tanto tiempo.

    Cuando el ritmo de la lonja dice al repicar…
    …que ya los pueblos en armas nadie detendrá!

    Son la misma trinchera, el mismo enemigo
    del centroamericano y del palestino.
    La misma intervención y agresión directa:
    la norteamericana y su soldadesca.
    La sangre derramada por vuestros hijos
    como si fuera nuestra sangre, es lo mismo.
    Nuestro el dolor y orgullo de su heroísmo,
    somos la misma lucha, el mismo camino.

    Cuando el ritmo de la lonja dice al repicar…
    …que ya los pueblos en armas nadie detendrá!