Bendito Sea

Blessed be the World Cup we dream of
Blessed be every name that has been designated
Blessed be the kids we always bring out
The weight of history, the respect earned
Cursed be the painful memories
Cursed be the helplessness, the injustice we live
Returning home each on our own
The finals not played and staying on the way
Blessed be the general anesthesia to pains
The sadness we heal with hugs
The throats that break for the goals
Feeling the best for a while
Cursed be the draws and the groups of death
The controls without chance that assigned our fate
Cursed be the petty ones who play without poetry
Those who hit, those who envy, those who break and hurt
Blessed be the pride with which we enter the field
The field and the ball never get dirty
The TV that repeats the dribble
Inflating the nets of others, inflating the chests of ours
Deserving the jersey
The tourists, the journalists, the sponsors, the friends, the anthem
and the women following the games
Blessed be the superstitions that yield results
The laughter and the tears we will keep so much
And blessed be that moment that soccer gives us
To change our destiny
And feel once again and in front of the world
The glorious and the cool of being Argentine!