La Patria – Ruben Blades

I’ve loved this panamanian song ever since the first time I heard it, the tempo, the rhythm and the words I roughly tried to figure out.  But after getting the full translation…..*chokes* it’s simply WONDERFUL! I only wish more Singaporeans felt the same way I do about our homeland. LA PATRIA!

Hace algun tiempo
me preguntaba un chiquillo
por el significado
de la palabra patria
me soprendio con su pregunta
y con el alma en la garganta
le dije asi
Flor de barrio, hermanito
Patria, son tantas cosas bellas
como aquel viejo arbol
que nos habla y renueva
como el cario que guardas
despues de muerta la abuela
Patria son tantas cosas bellas
son las paredes de un barrio
de su esperanza morena
es lo que lleva en el alma
como aquel cuando se aleja
son los martires que gritan
bandera, bandera bandera bandera
No memorices lecciones
dictaduras o encierros
la patria no la defines
los que suprimen a un pueblo
la patria es un sentimiento
en la mirada de un viejo
son la entera primavera brisa de hermanita nueva
te contesto, hermanito, Patria son tantas cosas bellas


Some time ago a child asked me
About the meaning of the word homeland
He surprised me with the question
And with my heart in my hand
I said…..

Neighbourood flower, my little brother
Homeland is so many beautiful things!
Like the old tree mentioned in the poem
Like the love you still cherish after grandma died
Homeland is so many beautiful things!

It’s in the walls of our barrio, and it’s brown hope
Is carried in the souls of all who leave
It’s the martyrs’ who cry flag, flag, flag, flag!
Don’t memorize lessons of dictatorship or imprisonment
Because the homeland is not defined By those who enslave a country

Homeland is a feeling like an old man’s gaze
like the sun in endless springtime
Like the laughter of a newborn sister
I tell you little brother
Homeland is so many beautiful things!

How Do I Love Thee – Elizabeth Barrett Browning

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of every day’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love with a passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.