La Hoguera de Los Continentes

In this bonfire dances the Sun of Tiahuanaco
Between Ayahuasca and Tobacco, warriors sing and color their skin
This bonfire, a bleeding cypress of art
Burns amidst a sea of slums and prisons
Turning hells into heaven

And in the piece of bonfire that fell to me, the streets of Cuba dance
With a trombone and a tuba crying out sounds of revolution
And in the piece of bonfire that fell to me, there are books from Alexandria
And the fire in its poetry releases the scent of the old fighter
In this bonfire dances Senegal

Baghdad has been dancing for a thousand and one nights
Those who are happy just being move their bodies
In this bonfire, the women of Gaza raise their voices and honor
By the fire's edge, I see everyone I love, I see
And in the piece of bonfire that fell to me
Istanbul sways its belly, amidst notes of an old lute

Awakening serpents that time put to sleep
And in the piece of bonfire that fell to me, there are books from Alexandria
And the fire in its poetry releases the scent of the old fighter
We sing to raise the tide against the current
Reuniting Africa, America, let the voice of the slave sound
We prefer to dance in the bonfire of the continents

Shouting, even the out-of-tune have a heart
We sing to raise the tide against the current
Reuniting Africa, America, let the voice of the slave sound
We prefer to dance in the bonfire of the continents
Shouting, even the out-of-tune have a heart

(Baba huama, baba yé)
(Baba huama, ba baba yé)
(Baba huama, baba yé)
(Baba huama, ba baba yé)