Calle 13 is a Puerto Rican band that happens to be one of my favorite bands.
Just wanted to share a beautiful music video by them, Latinoamérica.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DkFJE8ZdeG8

Here are the lyrics in both Spanish/Portuguese and English:


Soy, soy lo que dejaron, Soy las sobras de lo que te robaron,

Un pueblo escondido en la cima, Mi piel es de cuero por eso aguata cualquier clima,
Soy una fábrica de humo, Mano de obra campesina para tu consumo,
En el medio del verano, El amor en los tiempos del cólera,
Mi hermano!

Soy el que nace y el día que muere, Con los mejores atardeceres,
Soy el desarrollo en carne viva, Un discurso sin saliva,
Las caras más bonitas que he conocido, Soy la fotografía de un desaparecido,
La sangre dentro de tus venas, Soy un pedazo de tierra que vale la pena,
Una canasta con frijoles.

Soy Maradona contra Inglaterra Anotándole dos goles.
Soy lo que sostiene mi bandera, La espina dorsal de mi planeta, en mi cordillera.
Soy lo que me enseño mi padre, El que no quiere a su patria no quiere a su madre.
Soy América Latina un pueblo sin piernas pero que camina.

Tú no puedes comprar al viento,
Tú no puedes comprar al sol
Tú no puedes comprar la lluvia,
Tú no puedes comprar al calor.
Tú no puedes comprar las nubes,
Tú no puedes comprar mi alegría,
Tú no puedes comprar mis dolores.

Tengo los lagos, tengo los ríos, Tengo mis dientes pa cuando me sonrío,
La nieve que maquilla mis montañas, Tengo el sol que me seca y la lluvia que me baña,
Un desierto embriagado con pellotes, Un trago de pulque para cantar con los coyotes,
Todo lo que necesito!

Tengo a mis pulmones respirando azul clarito,
La altura que sofoca, Soy las muelas de mi boca mascando coca,
El otoño con sus hojas desmayadas, Los versos escritos bajo las noches estrelladas,
Una viña repleta de uvas, Un cañaveral bajo el sol en cuba,
Soy el mar Caribe que vigila las casitas, Haciendo rituales de agua bendita,
El viento que peina mi cabello, Soy todos los santos que cuelgan de mi cuello,
El jugo de mi lucha no es artificial porque el abono de mi tierra es natural.
Vamos caminando, vamos dibujando el camino!

Trabajo bruto pero con orgullo, Aquí se comparte lo mío es tuyo,
Este pueblo no se ahoga con marullos, Y si se derrumba yo lo reconstruyo,
Tampoco pestañeo cuando te miro, Para que te recuerdes de mi apellido,
La operación cóndor invadiendo mi nido, Perdono pero nunca olvido, oye!

Vamos caminado, aquí se respira lucha.
Vamos caminando, yo canto porque se escucha.
Vamos caminando, aquí estamos de pie.
Que viva Latinoamérica.
No puedes comprar mi vida!

I am
I am what that they left
I'm all about what that was stolen.
A village hidden on the peak,
My skin is from leather that's why it stands any weather.
I'm a factory of smoke,
A peasant working hand for your consumption
Cold Front in the middle of summer,
Love in the Time of Cholera, my brother.
The sun that is born and the day that dies,
with the best evenings.
I am developing raw,
a political speech without saliva.
The most beautiful faces I've met,
I'm the photograph of a missing person.
I'm the blood in your veins,
I'm a piece of land that is worth it.
I'm a basket with beans,
I'm Maradona against England scoring 2 goals.
I'm what that holds my flag,
the backbone of the planet is my Andes.
I'm what that my father taught me,
Who doesn't love his fatherland don't love his mother.
I'm Latin America,
People without legs but can walk

You can't buy the wind.
You can't buy the sun.
You can't buy the rain.
You can't buy the heat.
You can't buy the clouds.
You can't buy the colors.
You can't buy my happiness.
You can't buy my pains.

I have the lakes, I have the rivers.
I have my teethes for when I smile.
The snow that puts make up on my mountains.
I have the sol that dries me and the rain that wash me
*A desert intoxicated with beautiful drinks of pulque
To sing with the coyotes is all that I need.
I have my lungs breathing clear blue.
The height that suffocates.
I'm the teethes that chew the Coca.
*The autumn with its dropping leaves
The lines written under the starry night.
A wineyard filled with grapes.
A sugar cane plantation under the Cuban sun.
I'm the Caribbean Sea watching over the houses,
Doing rituals of holy water.
The wind that combs my hair.
I'm all the saints that hangs from my neck.
The juice of my struggle is not artificial,
Because the fertilizer of my land is natural.

You can't buy the wind.
You can't buy the sun.
You can't buy the rain.
You can't buy the heat.
You can't buy the clouds.
You can't buy the colors.
You can't buy my happiness.
You can't buy my pains.
(from purtuguese)
You can't buy the wind.
You can't buy the sun.
You can't buy the rain.
You can't buy the heat.
You can't buy the clouds.
You can't buy the colors.
You can't buy my happiness.
You can't buy my sadness.

You can't buy the sun.
You can't buy the rain.
(we are drawing the way, we are walking)
You can't buy my life.
MY LAND IS NOT FOR SALE.

Working hard but with pride,
Here we share, what's mine is yours.
These people can't be drawn with big waves.
And if it collapsed I'll rebuilt it.
*neither blink when I see you.
So that you'll remember my surname.
Operation Condor is invading my nest.
I forgive but I'll never forget!

(we are walking)
The struggle breathes here.
(we are walking)
I sing because it sounds.

Here we are standing.
Long live Latin America.

You can't buy my life.