2009.06.30 “Si no peleas para acabar con la corrupción y la podredumbre, acabarás formando parte de ella”. Joan Báez
“Si no peleas para acabar con la corrupción y la podredumbre, acabarás formando parte de ella”. Joan Báez
Joan Báez es una de las cimas de la música comprometida del siglo XX. Hija del conocido físico mexicano-estadounidense Albert Baez, co-inventor del microscopio de rayos X y autor de importantes libros de física. Su padre rechazó trabajar por convicciones personales en el desarrollo de la bomba atómica en el Proyecto Manhattan y más tarde rechazó trabajar en lucrativos puestos en la industria armamentística, hecho que influyó en la joven Joan.
La voz de Joan Báez ha estado siempre a favor de la justicia, de la igualdad, de la libertad. Y también ha sido coherente su compromiso fuera de los escenarios: seguidora de Ghandi y de su ideología no-violenta, creó en Palo Alto el Instituto de Estudios para la No-Violencia, en 1963, y años más tarde Humanitas, una organización internacional pro Derechos humanos. Desde muy joven forma parte de Amnistía Internacional, organización mundial de derechos humanos.
La frase seleccionada hoy nos recuerda que no sólo son responsables de la corrupción y de la podredumbre quienes directamente la practica, sino también quienes colaboran a ello, o quienes -simplemente- guardan silencio por comodidad y miran para otro sitio.
No sólo somos responsables de nuestros actos por acción o reacción, sino de nuestras omisiones. Porque sin ellas tal vez sería mucho más complicado seguir practicando la corrupción y el engaño con la impunidad con que suceden en nuestra sociedad ante nuestras miradas cómplices…
- JUAN DE LA CRUZ
(Words and Music by Joan Baez)
Once again the workers rise with the lark
There’s a mass going on in the people’s park
Silent and determined they set to embark
On a three day fast and a five mile march
For a man’s been shot on the picket line
Sixty years of strength was young for dying
His family is here with eyes of red
His wife steps down with feet of lead
And the sun shines down upon
The old man whose days are done
For a martyr has been taken
He is old Juan de la Cruz
And a century of women pray
At the casket before them laid
And the Virgin of Guadalupe
Watches over de la Cruz
As the heat poured down on the field below
The lead came a-flying from the vineyard row
De la Cruz and his wife never ducked or ran
Union folks since the fight began
People scattered out laying low to the ground
And slowly arose as the dust died down
Birds fluttered soft in his sweet wife’s breast
As the bullets sank deep in the old man’s chest
The tears fell as Cesar read
The eulogy for the dead
And the Bishop broke the people’s bread
Over old Juan de la Cruz
In the pitch of night a deal was made
The deck’s oldest card was played
And the devil watched someone get paid
For the death of de la Cruz
Thirty years ago in the same damn spot
The people who ordered the workers shot
Fought as the poor for the same damn right
Of their children to sleep well fed at night
Oh Children of Brotherhood how you’ve grown
But the seeds of hate were early sown
I see that your souls have long since flown
To the river of greed where angels moan
Midst flowered veils and weathered graves
And flags where the great black eagle waves
Nosotros Venceremos plays
For old Juan de la Cruz
There’s work today that must be done
Pray for the man who held the gun
And with sightless eyes shot down the one
Called old Juan de la Cruz
The rest of our story now soft and clear
How half our daily bread appears
Picked through the summer by young and old
Whose earnings must last through the winter’s cold
By children who have stood with their backs bent down
To scrape the roots from the grower’s ground
And mothers who have wept the night away
For a child born dead on a rainy day
Well it’s true that blessed are the poor
Through an iron mist – I can’t be sure -
It looks like I see heaven’s door
Swinging wide for de la Cruz
The nuns, the priests and the workers sing
Through a valley of blood their voices ring
Hallelujah, he is risen, and thank you, Lord
For old Juan de la Cruz
Hallelujah, he is risen, and thank you, Lord
For old Juan de la Cruz
© 1975, 1978 Chandos Music (ASCAP)
Blowing in the wind
How many roads must a man walk down
Before you call him a man?
Yes, n how many seas must a white dove sail
Before she sleeps in the sand?
Yes, n how many times must the cannon balls fly
Before theyre forever banned?
The answer, my friend, is blowin in the wind,
The answer is blowin in the wind.
How many times must a man look up
Before he can see the sky?
Yes, n how many ears must one man have
Before he can hear people cry?
Yes, n how many deaths will it take till he knows
That too many people have died?
The answer, my friend, is blowin in the wind,
The answer is blowin in the wind.
How many years can a mountain exist
Before its washed to the sea?
Yes, n how many years can some people exist
Before theyre allowed to be free?
Yes, n how many times can a man turn his head,
Pretending he just doesnt see?
The answer, my friend, is blowin in the wind,
The answer is blowin in the wind.











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