(My) American Land

Estados Unidos es ahora, más incluso que el resto de países ricos, un lugar antipático. Pero no fue así en otra época, hace cien años, cuando (al menos en mi visión idealizada del asunto, sé que siempre hubo racismo y xenofobia) llegaban a él buscando una vida mejor gentes de todas partes del mundo, entre cuyos descendientes está precisamente Springsteen, de sangre irlandesa e italiana. Él no lo olvida.

Para mí, esta canción, junto por ejemplo con esta otra, representa lo mejor de Estados Unidos, la América que a mí más me gusta.



What is this land of America, so many travel there
I'm going now while I'm still young, my darling meet me there
Wish me luck my lovely, I'll send for you when I can
And we'll make our home in the American land

Over there all the woman wear silk and satin to their knees
And children dear, the sweets, I hear, are growing on the trees
Gold comes rushing out the river straight into your hands
If you make your home in the American land

There's diamonds in the sidewalks, there's gutters lined in song
Dear I hear that beer flows through the faucets all night long
There's treasure for the taking, for any hard working man
Who will make his home in the American land

I docked at Ellis Island in a city of light and spire
I wandered to the valley of red-hot steel and fire
We made the steel that built the cities with the sweat of our two hands
And I made my home in the American land

There's diamonds in the sidewalk, there's gutters lined in song
Dear I hear that beer flows through the faucets all night long
There's treasure for the taking, for any hard working man
Who will make his home in the American land

The McNicholas, the Posalski's, the Smiths, Zerillis too
The Blacks, the Italians, the English, the Turkish and the Jews
They come across the water, a thousand miles from home
With hunger in their belly and a fire down below

They died building the railroads, worked to bones and skin
They died in the fields and factories, names scattered in the wind
They died to get here a hundred years ago, they're dyin' now
The hands that built the country we're all trying to keep down

There's diamonds in the sidewalk, there's gutters lined in song
Dear I hear that beer flows through the faucets all night long
There's treasure for the taking, for any hard working man
Who will make his home in the American land
Who will make his home in the American land
Who will make his home in the American land


Bruce Springsteen