The occupation of a happy people
Stalked by vile envy
They occupied with blood and fire
Thousands of space of my life.
What I was before happy singing
It is now a terrible cry;
With hunger, pain and tears,
Vile contempt and sincere hatred.
They used a thousand tricks
Believing the mighty people
And the truth, they never commanded,
Nor his hand to a beer!
The small occupied Venice
By dark foreigners without homeland
I cried imprisoned by a sad voice,
With his gold and stolen soul.
Author: Daniel Rivas.