Quiero volver a mi tierra

I want to return to my land
but not as a prisoner.
I've traveled the whole world,
my chest can't find peace.
And it's the pain in the soul
that doesn't leave me in peace.
I want to return to my land
but to see it in freedom.

Many sister nations
offered me their love.
I, rebellious like a child,
pretend to be leaving
when in truth I'm crying
for that lost land.
And I would give my life
to see it in freedom.

I hope, I ask the sky,
that it's not like Spain
where cobwebs
prevented the return.
And like a dog without a bone
the companions were left
scattered around the world
like the wandering Jew.
I don't need a banner
to think about the return.

I want to return to my land
but without the murderers
who interrupt the path
with cemeteries and crosses.
And from it shines through
that if we don't plow together
the fight for the deceased
martyrs in this war
our children great shame
will experience in this land.

Exile is not comfort
nor forgetting for a moment
that there is a distant land
waiting for its children.
The fixed course must be
to want to return to the struggle,
the flour won't be much
to turn it into bread.

But at least a piece
will touch us all
and like the body of Christ
it will have to multiply
like a ashamed people
finding its dignity.