Cuna Pobre

What fault is it of mine that I wasn't born
In a beautiful cradle with golden bars?
My parents are so poor they’ve had nothing at all,
Yours are so rich and have given you everything.

I’m a humble man from a provincial line,
Fighting hard for my rise and to make it in life.
I was born in a sad cradle that you from your peak
Look down on with disdain and reject with fervor.

Cradle, what fate has befallen you?
You’re a poem of sadness.
You’re like a scolded child,
Who only finds comfort in tears.

My life has always been humble and wandering,
Like that peasant, I only have hope.
To show the world that a man with pride
Can overcome the fierce ones that attack him.
That’s why I stand tall like a call for justice,
Seeking with them a great reality.
Because it’s not fate that will diminish my life,
Nor will I be the defeated but the one who will win.

Cradle, what fate has befallen you?
You’re a poem of sadness.
You’re like a scolded child,
Who only finds comfort in tears.

What fault is it of mine that I wasn't born
In a beautiful cradle with golden bars?
My parents are so poor they’ve had nothing at all,
Yours are so rich and have given you everything.

I’m a humble man from a provincial line,
Fighting hard for my rise and to make it in life.
I was born in a sad cradle that you from your peak
Look down on with disdain and reject with fervor.

Cradle, what fate has befallen you?
You’re a poem of sadness.
You’re like a scolded child,
Who only finds comfort in tears.

My life has always been humble and wandering,
Like that peasant, I only have hope.
To show the world that a man with pride
Can overcome the fierce ones that attack him.
That’s why I stand tall like a call for justice,
Seeking with them a great reality.
Because it’s not fate that will diminish my life,
Nor will I be the defeated but the one who will win.

Cradle, what fate has befallen you?
You’re a poem of sadness.
You’re like a scolded child,
Who only finds comfort in tears.