Maldita Miseria
Flor Silvestre
Damn Misery
My love of my life, you went up north,
left the crops for an illusion
sold the oxen for a passport
damn misery, the one in this region.
With an old donkey, we did the farming
we planted the crops with a hoe
we looked at the sky with hope
the clouds disappeared like a curse.
My children cried, making me deaf
I went to the estate and tried to steal
I brought my children prickly pears, greens, and beans
and I, already weak, started to cry.
Aaay...damn misery...damn misery in this region..
The white folks sent money in heaps
with some papers that needed signing
my love had died picking lemons
I didn't want the money and started to cry.
