Um Comunista
Caetano Veloso
A Communist
A Bahian mulatto
Very tall and mulatto
Son of an Italian
And a Hausa black
He was learning to read
Looking at the world around
And paying attention
To what was not in sight
Thus a communist is born
A Bahian mulatto
Who died in São Paulo
Shot by men of military power
In the features he gained on American soil
The so-called Cold War
Rome, France, and Bahia
The communists kept dreams
The communists! The communists!
The Bahian mulatto, mini and manual
Of the urban guerrilla who was arrested by Vargas
Then by Magalhães
Finally, by the military
He was always pursued in the details of the tracks
What are the communists like?
Not that his enemies
Were fighting
Against the terror nations
That communism was weaving
But for vain interests
Of power and money
Almost always for less
Almost never for more
The communists kept dreams
The communists! The communists!
The Bahian died
I was in exile
And I sent a message
"I who had died"
And that he was alive
But no one understood
Life without utopia
I do not understand that it exists
Thus speaks a communist
However, the human race
Follows tragic, always
Indecipherable
Boredom, horror, wonder
Oh, Bahian mulatto
Samba reveres him
Although he does not believe
In violence and guerrilla
Boredom, horror, and wonder
Dirty sidewalks
Crowds rot
There is an abyss between men
And men, the horror
Who and how will
Make the earth ignite?
And untie its knots
Discussing Clara
Yemanja, Maria, Iara
Iansã, Catijaçara
The Bahian mulatto no longer obeyed
The orders of interest that came from Moscow
It was a romantic struggle
It was light and darkness
Made of wonder, boredom, and horror
The communists kept dreams
The communists! The communists!
