Two dozen or more strong men
pull up the rock with bare hands
and dust in their eyes, blood on their arms
Ready for everything good and bad
Very Well, like this. Work, die
400 or more strong men
(who) day after day curse their luck
sting their eyes burn and sing
they break and laugh later they get up
Very good, like this. Work, die
Two million or more strong men
hit the rocks with nails and teeth
They burn and live, they despise death
They wipe their brows, They breathe and continue
Very good, like this. Work, die
...while they live they have hope
of being able to tip the balance...
Six million or more men fed up
of being a toy in the hands of four
(there are already) six million or more waiting to jump
The damned signal the damned signal
Very good, like that. Work, die
We are alive, the moment is approaching
And the distance is getting smaller
You don't feel it, it is heard in the wind
The dry air (already) smells of revenge
Very good, so. Work, die...

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