Que la tortilla se vuelva (o La hierba de los caminos)

The grass of the roads
is stepped on by the walkers
and the worker's wife
is stepped on by four scoundrels
those who have money.

What fault does the tomato have
that is calm on the plant
and comes a son of a bitch
and puts it in a can
and sends it to Caracas.

The mine owners
have bought a scale
to weigh the money
that every week
they steal from the poor worker.

(What fault does the copper have
that is calm in the mine
if a Yankee thief comes
and puts it in a wagon
and sends it to New York.)*

When will the God of heaven want
the tortilla to turn
for the poor to eat bread
and the rich shit, shit.

*Verse added by Rolando Alarcón