El Huajchito

They call me the little huajchito 'cause I'm so damn poor
My old lady left this world, I was all alone when I was born

I grew up among the thorns, they’ve seen me grow wild and free
In that little ranch up high, right in the middle of the trees

As a kid, I wore shorts, pants that barely fit my legs
A torn-up shirt on my side, with a hole near my ribs

Toughened by poverty, and weathered by a thousand suns
I feel happy living in these blooming hills, just having fun

Early in the morning, the cardinals and thrushes wake me up
The sun surprises me in the hills, shining on the quebracho trees

In the afternoons, I go to the river, swimming like a fish
At sunset, I ride back on my little donkey, feeling bliss

Until I reach my ranch, I think about my fate, it’s true
It makes me feel a way, walking alone on these roads, too
But I strum my guitar, and the wind carries my pain away
I’m from Santiago, maybe that’s why I’m feeling this way?