Mercado Indio
Los Violadores
Indian Market
In the dawn of another era,
from some century that died,
many men awaited
to begin the expedition.
Yesterday mirrors for gold, today dollars for trinkets,
imitations in clay,
imitations of lost cultures.
In the Indian market everything is very strange.
The mummies are the children,
the bandages are their masters.
In the Indian market everything is clear.
Buying and selling is the present,
the future was stolen.
They raised their flags
and swore by their god,
the slaughter was on the rise,
it was colonization.
Yesterday swords of betrayal, today missiles for terror,
so much guilt created today,
by those who carried out that expedition.
In the Indian market everything is very strange.
The mummies are the children,
the bandages are their masters.
In the Indian market everything is clear.
Buying and selling is the present,
the past was burned.
