Fiscaleros

This land has so much loneliness, so much forgetfulness
Land of immensity where time has fallen asleep
Field without fences, field open to destiny
Common to so many men lost here in the south
This land has so much forgetfulness

A little cloud descends from the hill, raising dust clouds
That get tangled in the wind
There it goes galloping to die in the rocky ground
Below, the thicket, blessed bread from heaven
Silences sink among the shrubs

Huts, gray adobe without hope
On foot on this land, Fiscaleros of this south
They have a distant gaze and a pain
Silent since always, surviving they wait
Race of ancient owners now voiceless

Some child in school, some who have already left
A mother who cries at night for a goodbye
Perhaps uprooting is light and salvation
Like dreaming of returns without repeating history
Like dreaming here of a better world

They spend the day, just waiting for an owner to come
Claiming ownership after so much traveled road in the place
They will leave one morning, alone into the distance
Only God will know what will become of them