Huellas Santiagueñas
Alfredo Abalos
Santiago Footprints
Smell of piquillin, carob, and mistol, the quishcaloros are blooming in the thickets
The quishcaloros are blooming in the thickets
The path goes on, with the goat herders barking, the flocks bleating to the rhythm of zambas, the bells ringing
The flocks bleating to the rhythm of zambas, the bells ringing
The Santiago footprints, music of the quebrachal
And the Hidden one at siesta, like the drum echoing
And the Hidden one at siesta, like the drum echoing
Clouds of saltpeter, crying of the roads, pain of the teamsters driving their fate along
Pain of the teamsters driving their fate along
The troops are trudging along the paths, the packers moving slowly, cutting the distance
The packers moving slowly, cutting the distance
The Santiago footprints, music of the quebrachal
And the Hidden one at siesta, like the drum echoing
And the Hidden one at siesta, like the drum echoing
