El Cielo Nos Queda Muy Chico
Iván Sadovsky
The Sky Is Too Small for Us
We students are strange people,
From a young age we believe in witches
We always show up in tough times
Aguirre Suarez, Alayes, and Andújar.
The mystique, the hot blood,
The DNA of world champions,
Old Trafford will be a living legend,
But we are not second.
Boby Charlton wasn't enough,
Making history tastes rich,
And since October '68,
The whole sky is too small for us.
That's how we are, the Pincharratas,
We see life in red and white,
Every Sunday in the city of La Plata,
There are teams with blood in their eyes.
Carlitos Lopez, Braña, Fortunato,
Paolo Trama, Manera, Bertero,
El Tata Brown and Manzanita Guette,
El Bocha Ponce and the great Ignomirielo.
Oscar Pezzano under the three posts,
Echecopar, Conigliaro, Madero,
The two Veron with the sword and the eleven,
To end any tangle.
Prepare the body, Coach Jorge Kistermacher,
Carlos Cajade blesses our steps,
And on a cloud he tells Mangano,
We are champions, Pavone scored a great goal.
That's how we are, the Pincharratas,
We see life in red and white,
Every Sunday in the city of La Plata,
There are teams with blood in their eyes.
We turned years on August 4th,
And if years are counted in cups,
We have so many, we are so great,
That even 100 laps seem few,
If it were true that heaven is eternal,
Joy would always exist,
Paradise would be red and white,
Because that's why we are the majority.
Sabella, Russo, Palermo, Trobiani,
Abel Ernesto Herrera, Craviotto, Galleti,
The professors, Sosaya, Ferreyra,
Calderon, Infante, Malbernat, Gurrieri.
That's how we are, the Pincharratas,
We see life in red and white,
Every Sunday in the city of La Plata,
There are teams with blood in their eyes.
We cried so much when the Russian left us,
As when we won the Libertadores,
There is so much emotion and even more courage,
We have enough blood to be winners,
The eternal soul of the great Zubeldia,
And all the pride of being true Bilardistas,
We don't care about beautiful football,
Long live the results.
If the feeling could be explained,
Always local in the visiting field,
It is impossible to express in words,
What a student fan feels.
That's how we are, the Pincharratas,
We see life in red and white,
Every Sunday in the city of La Plata,
There are teams with blood in their eyes.
Because that's how we all are, the Pincharratas,
We see life in red and white,
Every Sunday in the city of La Plata,
There are teams with blood in their eyes.
