Milonga de Andar Lejos

How far away is my land
And yet, how close
Or is there a territory
Where the blood mixes.

So much distance and road,
Such different flags
And poverty is the same
The same men wait.

I want to break my map,
Form the map of everyone,
Mestizos, blacks, and whites,
Draw it side by side.

The rivers are like veins
Of a whole extended body,
And it is the color of the land
The blood of the fallen.

We are not the foreigners
The foreigners are others;
They are the merchants
And the slaves are us.

I want to break life,
How I would like to change it,
Help me, companion;
Help me, do not delay,
For a drop, though little
With another becomes a downpour.