Havana,
always in halves so half Spanish and half African
the waves know well that in every window there is always a witness
Havana,
those who know that they do not swear They know nothing to understand yours...
Havana,
as close and as far as those mirrors that reflect nothing
some to the blockade, others to a sled that has never seen snow,
Havana,
God nor the 600 saints have been able to understand yours,
While Florida, which is like that aunt who went somewhere else,
feels strange art in the Hialeah of coincidences,
and I, who do not touch the candle at this funeral, die of grief,
of not doing the magician and building a 90-mile bridge
so that the cousins run and hug each other as you deserve
and ideology does not get involved anymore in what does not matter to it,
that history is long, and life is short.
There is a Cuban in Havana,
selling forbidden cigars
so many dreams have been left in bed,
a Cuban in Havana,
who is an inventor of futures,
blocked the enemy cyanide to the American way,
a Cuban in Havana…
a Cuban in Havana, who is not guilty of anything'
There is a Cuban in Miami,
regrets due to tradition,
South Beach is his Varadero, Ocean is his Malecón,
a Cuban in Miami, third generation,
who talks about becoming a consort with the same song,
a Cuban in Miami, a Cuban in Miami,
who is not guilty of anything'
Let those who persecute Florida dry their feet!
let others wash their hands with soap of diplomacy,
neither the blockade is a remedy nor clinging is the measure,
when pride rules, misfortune always reigns,
Bridge, we should build a bridge,
pa 'unite so many people,
in the midst of the conflict people have lived and live,
Bridge, we would have to build a bridge
to unite so many people,
perhaps the diplomacy has not known how to build a bridge
Time is running out in the hourglass as we wait...
we are going to build a bridge, a brother bridge...
we are all going to unite with this tumba'o
there in Pinar del Río they plant crops under the sun,
tobacco against the cold, salsa with baseball
Let's make a bridge, a brother bridge..
Let's all unite with this tumba'o,
How easy the blockade, a yuppie in the office,
Sundays diving, snacks in the pool.
Let's go to build a bridge, a brother bridge...
let's all unite with this tumbao
The curtains fell, the cold war died,
the Kremlin is already in ruins, who Don't you want more thorns?
Let's make a bridge, a brother bridge...
let's all unite with this tumba'o,
guaracha la cubana with Celia and the Van Van,
There are traces of Havana in London or Milan.
There are sounds of Havana throughout the city,
Coral Gables, Hialeah, Calle 8, Lincoln Road,
Cubans who secretly miss the other shore,
Baracoa, Santiago, Pinar del RÃo, Camagüey, Matanzas, Varadero,
there in old Havana, El Vedado, Miramar,
there are traces of nostalgia for someone who left,
Cubans of the world with an unsyncopated accent in Rome or Budapest,
playing sounds from the past, the D.F. or Key West,
the key, the swing, the woman's curves,
no one wins the battle, everyone loses, it's like that,
politics is far from Juan, María, Luis, Alberto, Lupe,
it doesn't matter where they live, if it's here or there, on the other side,
they live, they feel, the measures are for people not for concrete walls,
the story is a suicide who revives years later,
here there are no sides, only brothers,
if you want me as a witness, I will say that I did not understand,
That friend already told me while walking on the Malecón,
I am no good as an enemy if I gave up a long time ago...
Chorus: Let's make a bridge...x2
Let all hands join together that time heals wounds that rancor cannot...
Let's make a bridge...

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