Porqué Los Pobres No Tienen

Because the poor have nothing
Where to turn their gaze
They turn it towards the skies
With infinite hope
To find what their brother
Takes away in this world

Little dove!
Life has such things
Oh, zamba!

Because the poor have nothing
Where to turn their voice
They turn it towards the skies
Seeking a confession
Since their brother doesn't listen
To the voice of their heart

Because the poor have no
Hope in this world
They seek refuge in the afterlife
Like a fair balance
That's why the processions
The candles, the praises

Since time immemorial
Hell has been invented
To scare the poor
With eternal punishments
And the innocent poor
Believing in their innocence

Heaven holds the reins
The earth and the capital
And the Pope's soldiers
Fill their bags well
And to the worker they put
Glory as a muzzle

To continue the lie
His confessor calls him
Tells him that God doesn't want
Any revolution
No petitions or unions
It offends his heart