La Planta 14 [English translation]

On the 14th floor of the mine shaft,

on the yellowish evening,

three men did not come back.

There are sirens, wails, conjoined lamentations

on the shaft's entrance.

Two mourning-clad women wishing for two bodies

and a mother ruminating her agony in silence:

he's the third one.

At ten pm., the clear moon

glints off the patron's rings, just arrived

with hat, sternness and his bored grimace.

He was the first,

there will be governors, mayors, engineers.

They will try to calm down

the foreseen widow biting down on her handkerchief.

They won't know how to approach the mother

looking at them with dried up eyes.

At twelve the patron will look at his watch,

the others are already gone

and away from the rest will show an annoyed expression,

thinking, "Where the hell are they?"

Another firemen's shift has arrived

and at ten to one in the night

the first corpse comes out.

Sitting on the ground,

miners cross themselves

and curse against God.

Who would have thought

the repeated tragedy will catch them unawares.

Sometimes the boldest one stays still

staring at the patron

through gritted teeth.

And the hat-wearing patron

has two policemen by his side-

it´s no use trying.

Three hours sluggishly go by.

Under the light of the frightened lamps

the priest, his eyes brimming with tears,

crosses the second's hands over his chest.

And a 15 year old boy

hugs a tree while he impotently cries.

And the patron's chauffeur, with his felt cap

feels out of place.

He's a prudent man, a well tamed one.

Dew soaks through to the bones when the third comes out.

Dawn's blue-grey smile greets him.

And amidst a choir o voices, the miners

while hug each other,

and one of them, the boldest one,

for not having gone for the patron, cries on the ground.

• Artist:Victor Manuel
• Album:Spanien (1977)