La Maldición de La Malinche

From the sea they saw them arrive
My feathered brothers
They were the bearded men
Of the awaited prophecy
The voice of the monarch was heard
Saying that the god had arrived
And we opened the door to them
Out of fear of the unknown

They rode on beasts
Like demons of evil
They had fire in their hands
And were covered in metal
Only the courage of a few
Opposed resistance to them
And upon seeing the bloodshed
They were filled with shame

Because the gods neither eat
Nor rejoice in stolen things
And when we realized
Everything was already over
And in that mistake we gave away
The greatness of the past
And in that mistake we remained
Slaves for three hundred years

The curse remained with us
Of offering to the foreigner
Our faith, our culture,
Our bread, our money
And we keep on exchanging
Gold for glass beads
And we give away our riches
For their shiny mirrors

Today, in the midst of the twentieth century
Blond ones keep arriving
And we open our homes to them
And call them friends
But if a tired Indian arrives
From walking the mountains
We humiliate him and see him
As a stranger in his own land

You, hypocrite who shows yourself
Humble before the foreigner
But become arrogant
Towards your own people
Oh, curse of La Malinche,
Illness of the present
When will you leave my land..?
When will you make my people free?