9/11
On this day in 1973: A U.S.-backed military coup topples the democratically elected socialist government of Chile. The right-wing military government lasted for 17 years and lead to the imprisonment, abduction, and murdered of thousands and thousands of leftists.
Victor Jara (1932-1973) was a Chilean musician, songwriter, and socialist activist. Jara was a leader of Chile’s vibrant political folk music renaissance, the ‘New Song Movement’. Jara was promptly arrested by the ’73 rightist coup, imprisoned with thousands of others in a stadium, tortured, and finally executed. But his songs could not be killed.
This was the last (Read more…) Victor Jara wrote before he was murdered in Pinochet’s 11 September coup in Chile in 1973.
Yo no canto por cantar
ni por tener buena voz
canto porque la guitarra
tiene sentido y razon,
tiene corazon de tierra
y alas de palomita,
es como el agua bendita
santigua glorias y penas,
aqui se encajo mi canto
como dijera Violeta
guitarra trabajadora
con olor a primavera.
Que no es guitarra de ricos
ni cosa que se parezca
mi canto es de los andamios
para alcanzar las estrellas,
que el canto tiene sentido
cuando palpita en las venas
del que morira cantando
las verdades verdaderas,
no las lisonjas fugaces
ni las famas extranjeras
sino el canto de una alondra
hasta el fondo de la tierra.
Ahi donde llega todo
y donde todo comienza
canto que ha sido valiente
siempre sera cancion nueva.
*****************************************
I don’t sing for love of singing
or to show off my voice
but for the statements
made by my honest guitar
for its heart is of the earth
and like the dove it goes flying….
endlessly as holy water
blessing the brave and the dying
so my song has found a purpose
as Violet Parra would say.
Yes, my guitar is a worker
shining and smelling of spring
my guitar is not for killers
greedy for money and power
but for the people who labour
so that the future may flower.
For a song takes on a meaning
when its own heart beat is strong
sung by a man who will die singing
truthfully singing his song.
I don’t care for adulation
or so that strangers may weep.
I sing for a far strip of country
narrow but endlessly deep.
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