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Gloria Estefan - Mi Tierra
Álbum: Mi Tierra

Letra y música: Gloria Estefan y Fabio Salgado

en es fr it pt ru uk


Tradução em
Mi TierraMy Land
De mi tierra bella
De mi tierra santa
Oigo ese grito de los tambores
Y los timbales al cumbancha

Y ese pregón que canta un hermano
Que de su tierra vive lejano
Y que el recuerdo le hace llorar

Una canción que vive entonando
De su dolor, de su propio llanto
Y se le escucha penar

Coro:
La tierra te duele, la tierra te da
En medio del alma, cuando tú no estás.
La tierra te empuja de raíz y cal.
La tierra suspira si no te ve más

La tierra donde naciste
No la puedes olvidar
Porque tiene tus raíces
Y lo que dejas atrás

La tierra te duele, la tierra te da
En medio del alma, cuando tú no estás

Siguen los pregones la melancolía
Y cada noche junto a la luna
Sigue el guajiro entonando el son

Y cada calle que va a mi pueblo
Tiene un quejido, tiene un lamento
Tiene nostalgia como su voz

Y esa canción que sigue entonando
Corre en la sangre y sigue llegando
Con más fuerza al corazón

{Coro}

Tiene un quejido, tiene un lamento
Nunca la olvido
La llevo en mi sentimiento, ¡sí señor!

Oigo ese grito, vive el recuerdo
Corre en mi sangre
La llevo por dentro ¡como no!

Canto de mi tierra bella y santa
Sufro ese dolor que hay en su alma.
Aunque esté lejos yo la siento
Y un día regreso, yo lo sé

Siguen los pregones la melancolía
Y cada noche junto a la luna
Sigue el guajiro entonando el son

Y cada calle que va a mi pueblo
Tiene un quejido, tiene un lamento.
La nostalgia de su voz
Me llega con fuerza al corazón

{Coro}
From my beautiful land
From my holy land
I hear this resounding of the tamboras
And the timbales at the party *

And this cry that a brother sings
Who lives far from his land
And who the memory makes him cry

A song that he lives intoning
About his pain, about his own tears
And you [can] hear him suffer

Chorus:
The land hurts you, the land hits you
In the middle of the soul, when you are not there.
The land puts pressure on you with root and quicklime.
The land sighs if it does not see you any more

You are unable to forget
The land where you were born
Because it has your roots
And what you leave behind

The land hurts you, the land hits you
In the middle of the soul, when you are not there

The cries come after the melancholy
And every night by the moon
The peasant keeps on singing the son

And every road that goes to my village
Has a moan, has a lament
Has nostalgia as its voice

And this song that keeps on singing
Runs in the blood and keeps on getting
To the heart with more force

{Chorus}

It has a moan, it has a lament
I never forget it
I carry it in my feeling, yes sir!

I hear this shout, the memory lives
It runs in my blood
I carry it inside, of course!

I sing of my beautiful and holy land
I suffer this pain that exists in its soul
Though it is far away I feel it
And one day I [will] return, I know it

The cries come after the melancholy
And every night by the moon
The peasant keeps on singing the sound

And every road that goes to my village
Has a moan, has a lament.
The nostalgia of his voice
Gets to my heart with force

{Chorus}

* ‘Cumbancha’ is a Cuban word of West African derivation that refers to an impromptu party or musical jam session. Many classic Latin songs refer to the ‘cumbanchero’, a person who knows how to party and have a good time. For those who are familiar with the word, ‘cumbancha’ implies an opportunity to get together with family and friends to dance, sing and celebrate life.