Trozos de Utopía - La Otra

Trozos de utopía son lo que crecen entre las prisas

Que son prisiones de miedo sin pausas a la soledad

A veces se encuentran

Y a veces se inventan

Y a menudo los nadie los intentan borrar

Los que nada tienen y nada esperan

Los que se visten de muerte

Y se aburren de no creer

Los que se saltan las leyes que se suponen defienden

Y olvidan que la utopía no se puede vencer

No se puede vencer

Y olvidan que hay cosas que no se pueden borrar

Y olvidan que no hay magia porque hay pura… realidad

Pura huellas de otras luchas

Puro esfuerzo y voluntad

La lucha sigue, y no nos van a parar

Llegamos con poesías en los bolsillos

Para ponerlas en nuestras vidas y nuestras acciones

Poesías de necesidades y contradicciones

Poesía precaria

La de las casas sin gente

La gente sin casa

Poesía enemiga y vándala

Porque con sus palabras prenden fuego a su desorden

Y alumbran la oscuridad

Y allá a dónde tapien alguna puerta

Habrán otras trescientas que podremos cruzar

Y olvidan que hay cosas que no se pueden borrar

Y olvidan que no hay magia porque hay pura realidad

Puras huellas de otras luchas

Puro esfuerzo y voluntad

La lucha sigue y no nos van a parar

La lucha sigue

La lucha sigue

Y no nos van a parar

Pieces of utopia are what grow between the rush

That they are prisons of fear without pauses to loneliness

sometimes they meet

And sometimes they make up

And often the nobodies try to erase them

Those who have nothing and expect nothing

Those who dress in death

And they get bored of not believing

Those who break the laws they are supposed to uphold

And they forget that utopia cannot be defeated

can't beat

And they forget that there are things that cannot be erased

And they forget that there is no magic because there is pure… reality

Pure traces of other struggles

Pure effort and will

The fight continues, and they are not going to stop us

We arrived with poetry in our pockets

To put them in our lives and our actions

Poems of needs and contradictions

precarious poetry

The one with the houses without people

homeless people

enemy poetry and vandal

Because with their words they set fire to their disorder

And light up the dark

And wherever they cover a door

There will be another three hundred that we can cross

And they forget that there are things that cannot be erased

And they forget that there is no magic because there is pure reality

Pure traces of other struggles

Pure effort and will

The fight continues and they are not going to stop us

The fighting continues

The fighting continues

And they are not going to stop us