América Latina
Dante Ramon Ledesma
Latin America
Maybe one day, there will be no barbed wire
And no gates, at the borders' limits
Maybe one day millions of voices will rise
In one voice, from the sea to the mountain ranges
From the hand of the exploited, annihilated Indian
To the peasant, calloused hands, landless
From the rough cowboy who humbly walks his path
And the young ones, who unknowingly die in wars
Latin America, Latin America
Beloved America, of blood and sweat
Maybe one day the moans from the dungeons
And the sweat of the workers and miners
Will join the voice of the weak and oppressed
And the scars of so many guerrillas
Maybe one day, the silence of the cowards
Will awaken us from the innocence of these years
And the cry of the Sepé in the people's voice
Will remind us, that this land still has an owner
And the estates, of fields and riches
Concentrated in the hands of a few
Will be plowed by the plow of justice
From north to south, in the Latin Continent
