Siglo XX cambalache

That the world was and will be a piece of crap, I already know,
in fifteen-six and in two thousand as well,
that there have always been thieves, Machiavellis, and swindlers,
happy and bitter, men and deceit.
But that the twentieth century is a display of evil,
insolent, no one can deny it,
we live rolling around in a merengue,
and in the same mud, all stained.

If today it turns out that it's the same to be honest as to be a traitor,
ignorant, wise, thief, pretentious, swindler,
everything is the same, nothing is better, a donkey is the same as a great professor,
there are no applause or rankings, the immoral have made us all the same.
If one lives in imposture and another steals in their ambition,
it doesn't matter if you're a priest, a mattress maker, a king of clubs, a cheat, or a stowaway.

What a lack of respect, what an assault on reason,
everyone is a gentleman, everyone is a snitch,
Toscanini mixed with Scarface and Napoleon,
Don Bosco and La Mignon, Carnera and San Martin.

Just like in the disrespectful shop window of the swap meet,
life has been mixed, and wounded by a sword without a hilt,
you see the Bible crying next to the water heater.

Twentieth century swap meet, problematic and feverish,
he who doesn't cry doesn't get fed, and he who works hard is a fool,
go ahead, keep going,
because in the oven we will all meet.
Don't think anymore, sit on the side,
no one cares if you were born honorable,
it doesn't matter what you do, night and day like an ox,
whether you live off the mines, kill, heal,
or are outside the law.