Arbolito

Hey my child, it seems like luck has changed
It's those men from above, loaded with death
They bring their weapons that burn the skin if they hit you
They want to take the lands, the forests, and the sea
How can I explain to you, my child, something that I don't understand
They're closing the fields and putting owners
And in their savage path, bathing everything the sun illuminates in the evening in blood
Little tree...
Your spear is our path
Little tree...
The plains are your destination
The colonel and his troops advance through the land
They bring from Europe the newest war manual
Wild Indians who have no God or government
Will have to learn to die like dogs!
A young Indian, fed up with so much arrogance
Wants to avenge so many fallen brothers
He eagerly awaits the troops that are coming, that are arriving
He turned to the brave colonel... and cut off his head!
Little tree...
Your spear is our path
Little tree...
The plains are your destination
Little tree...
Your spear is our path
Little tree...
The land is born in our cry!