You would like me to sing yet again
the sweet song about the little birds to please you
even as I hear the cries of the dead
coming from our filthy prison cells.
You'd like me to sing of the clear water
of the streams and rivers
of the Artibonite
red with the blood of our brothers.
You call yourself a pacifist,
you call yourself apolitical, my brother.
You really like the romantic crooners,
it pleases the beautiful women
who love to faint,
it doesn't hurt anyone;
when the singer shakes it
in front of a clucking America,
idols supply the thrills
which make us forget about the missiles,
El Salvador and Haiti,
Grenada and company, my brother.
When show business makes big bucks
you're no longer racist, my brother.
You like rock, you like blues,
you dance, you play at losing yourself.
You wash your hands of it,
you're all good little citizens
and in the sand the ostriches
sleep the sleep of the just
while the great eagle plays
at devouring the weak ones
the weak ones, the weak ones, the weak ones.
(Translated from French by Mark Dow)
MY BROTHER
You would like me to sing yet again the sweet song about the little birds to please you even as I hear the cries of the dead coming from our filthy prison cells. You'd like me to sing of the clear water of the streams and rivers of the Artibonite red with the blood of our brothers. You call yourself a pacifist, you call yourself apolitical, my brother.
You really like the romantic crooners, it pleases the beautiful women who love to faint, it doesn't hurt anyone; when the singer shakes it in front of a clucking America, idols supply the thrills which make us forget about the missiles, El Salvador and Haiti, Grenada and company, my brother.
When show business makes big bucks you're no longer racist, my brother. You like rock, you like blues, you dance, you play at losing yourself. You wash your hands of it, you're all good little citizens and in the sand the ostriches sleep the sleep of the just while the great eagle plays at devouring the weak ones the weak ones, the weak ones, the weak ones.