La Maldición de La Malinche

They saw them coming from the sea
My feathered brothers
They were the bearded men
From the expected prophecy
The voice of the monarch was heard
That God had arrived
And we opened the door for them
For fear of the unknown

They were riding on beasts
Like evil demons
They were walking with fire in their hands
And metal cutlery
Only the value of a few
He resisted them
And watching the blood flow
They were filled with shame

Because the gods do not eat
They don't even enjoy what they stole
And when we realized
Everything was already over
And in that error we deliver
The greatness of the past
And in that error we remain
Three hundred years of slavery

The curse remained with us
To give to the foreigner
Our faith, our culture
Our bread, our money
And we keep changing them
Gold for glass beads
And we give our riches
For its shiny mirrors

Today, in the middle of the twentieth century
Blondes keep coming to us
And we opened the house to them
And we call them friends
But if he arrives tired
An Indian walking the mountains
We humiliate him and we see it
As a stranger in his land

You, hypocrite who shows yourself
Humble before the foreigner
But you become arrogant
With your brothers from the town
Oh, curse of malinche
Disease of the present
When will you leave my land?
When will you set my people free?