Grito Changa

They offered me a job
just to get by, just to get by,
work is scarce,
pay is tight
and the back is wide.
Because I have my children
that I'm raising with my bare arms,
I cling to anything,
hunger is great and bread is scarce.
I strike the axe into the tree,
pull out the weeds, build the scaffold,
I don't have a steady trade,
from a very young age, I lived struggling.
Today I don't have the right
even to joke around with my salary.
The boss already told me
that if I get sick, he won't take responsibility.
Damn! I'm worth very little,
if I can't even afford a cigarette,
and the bone I carry home
inside my chest is hitting me.
If anger takes hold of me
and I shout, I'm thinking,
that my poor pups,
are not to blame to burden them.
Let the wise one come and say
if my work is worth anything.
Let the wise one answer me,
if I'm not a greyhound to calm down.
If he knows all that,
he knows well that the pay is little.
For knowing so many things,
they make the poor man sick to death.
Damn! I'm worth very little,
if I can't even afford a cigarette,
and the bone I carry home
inside my chest is hitting me.
If anger takes hold of me
and I shout, I'm thinking,
that my poor pups,
are not to blame to burden them.