Patria (Motherland) - Rubén Blades

Hace algun tiempo

Me preguntaba un chiquillo

Por el significado

De la palabra patria

Me soprendio con su pregunta

Y con el alma en la garganta

Le dije asi

Flor de barrio, hermanito

Patria, son tantas cosas bellas

Como aquel viejo arbol

Que nos habla y renueva

Como el carino que guardas

Despues de muerta la abuela

Patria son tantas cosas bellas

Son las paredes de un barrio

De su esperanza morena

Es lo que lleva en el alma

Como aquel cuando se aleja

Son los martires que gritan

Bandera, bandera bandera bandera

No memorices lecciones

Dictaduras o encierros

La patria no la defines

Los que suprimen a un pueblo

La patria es un sentimiento

En la mirada de un viejo

Son la entera primavera brisa de hermanita nueva

Te contesto, hermanito, Patria son tantas cosas bellas

Some time ago

a little boy asked me

for the meaning

of the word homeland

You surprised me with your question

And with the soul in the throat

I told him so

neighborhood flower, little brother

Homeland, there are so many beautiful things

Like that old tree

That speaks to us and renews

Like the love you keep

After the death of the grandmother

Homeland are so many beautiful things

They are the walls of a neighborhood

Of her dark hope

It is what he carries in his soul

Like the one when he walks away

They are the martyrs who shout

flag, flag flag flag

Don't memorize lessons

Dictatorships or lockdowns

You do not define the homeland

Those who suppress a people

The homeland is a feeling

In the eyes of an old man

They are the whole spring breeze of new little sister

I answer you, little brother, Homeland are so many beautiful things