Victoria

My name is Victoria, born 14 springs ago
In a village near Salta where I used to live
It's been over 10 years now
That with mom and dad
My brothers and sisters
We left our fields
We came to cram into one of those shacks at the city entrance
Dad built it, but it's not finished
I only have vague memories of the village
Mom cries when she talks about it because she doesn't like life here
Strangers burned our houses to steal our lands
Dad gets angry, I don't understand, he talks about agribusiness
He says politicians are predators who sow fear
And they have a stomach instead of a heart
No work here, no prayer is answered
After school, my sister and I sell bracelets for two pesos
And despite all these efforts, there are still days without meals
At night, mom cries, at night, mom doesn't sleep

Don't cry, my daughter
I haven't lost hope
From the bandit dictators
They will never destroy the struggle of the people
Who can't forget their disappeared

My neighbor told me during the dictatorship it was harder
So I won't complain even if there's no future here
I like studying, they told me it's good but useless
Many here stopped before even learning to write
In my secret garden, I cultivate the dream of being a doctor
To treat all these sick children who don't eat enough
I don't understand in the city I see all these kids begging
In front of the contempt of those called the good people
I wonder, don't they see the misery?
They crush us to bless the man from the other hemisphere
Dad says we're treated like dogs
Thank God I have my family, further there are orphans living in the dumps
Sometimes I cry in secret
But not for long because I think of my elders who knew the sound of machine guns
And then grandma always said, life is hope
If you have no more, you're like dead, and living is an exploit

Don't cry, my daughter
I haven't lost hope
From the bandit dictators
They will never destroy the struggle of the people
Who can't forget their disappeared

Dad is at his wits' end, he almost went crazy
When one morning he learned
That the bank had stolen his savings
Helpless, everyone was panicked
He wasn't the only one, the whole nation had been robbed
Since that day, with many people from the city
They block the roads to block the country's economy
It's their way of being heard
But I'm scared when he leaves, some don't come back, the police are violent
They call them Piqueteros
And the newspapers are liars
They say they're bandits, then there are people who are afraid
Dad says, they can kill men, but they won't kill memory
The mothers of the disappeared still sing against forgetting
We live the result of a failed democracy
In a country so rich, so many children have in their bellies only a cup of Mate
Because we are ruled by the crime mafia
I don't understand and when I ask why
I always get the answer because we are in Argentina