LA CONSCIÈNCIA (CONSCIENCE)

Music and lyrics by Joan Manuel Serrat
Translation by Coby Lubliner

Ens l’encolomen des de la infantesa. És partidista i desproporcionada. Complement del pecat i del remordiment, no ens deixa dormir en pau i ens treu la gana. Ens emmotlla a un guió convencional on gairebé mai som protagonistes. La consciència, senyors, ens fa amagar a les golfes el que hauria d’estar a l’aparador. N’hi hauria prou amb el respecte, la sinceritat i una miqueta de benevolència. Però ens pengen, sense cap necessitat, la llufa de la consciència. És del tot anticonstitucional. Fomenta la mentida i aliena. No ens deixa bellugar amb espontaneïtat. La quintacolumnista del sistema. Em porta pel camí del pedregar. No se’n pot estar, de passar factura ni de picar-me els dits quan estem canviant cromos que a mi em falten i tu tens repetits. N’hi hauria prou amb el respecte, la sinceritat i una miqueta de benevolència. Però ens pengen, sense cap necessitat, la llufa de la consciència. De fora manen lleis i reglaments i de dins ella completa la «bronca». Això no pot anar bé. De seguida es veu que algú vol fer entrar el clau per la cabota. Què hi deu haver darrera tot això? Qui ens confon les necessitats i els vicis? Alliberem els sentits i, com diu la policia, investiguem els qui en treuen profit.

They load it on us from the time we’re babies. It’s partisan and out of all proportion. It goes along with sin As well as with remorse, Won’t let us sleep in peace or eat our portion. It molds us to a standard, hackneyed script In which we seldom are the leading players. Yes, conscience, let me say, Makes us hide in the attic What should be out in front and on display. We’d have enough with some respect, some sincerity, And just a little drop of human kindness. But conscience is, unnecessarily, What we get put on, like blinders. It’s very much against our constitution. It makes us lie and causes alienation. It doesn’t let us move With sponaneity. It is the system’s force of infiltration. It makes me travel down a rocky road. And keeping score is what I can’t help doing, Or feeling it’s no fun When we trade picture cards And I’ve got none while you’ve got more than one. We’d have enough with some respect, some sincerity, And just a little drop of human kindness. But conscience is, unnecessarily, What we get put on, like blinders. Well, laws and regulations rule outside, And conscience acts as the inside connection. This can’t go very well, And right away you see That someone’s banging in the wrong direction. What can there be behind this whole shebang? Who ever gets our needs mixed up with vices? Let’s make ourselves free to feel And, as the cops would say it, Let’s figure out who profits from the deal.