Elegia
Gaitan Castro
Elegy
Awakening our guitars against the silence
Wandering through nameless graves, cracks, and doors
Finding the bleeding wheat, little wawallanchita
Searching for the wound of love filled with kisses
Dear Ayacucho, weaver of tenderness, your
Children will be reborn in the flowers
Dear Ayacucho, weaver of tenderness, your
Children will be reborn in the flowers
You are the tree that has turned into the wind
You are the father and mother of the humble
Where you are, I am, torn by a thousand
Beasts, protest, oh farmer of guitars
Where you are, I am, torn by a thousand
Beasts, protest, oh farmer of guitars
When the wheat blooms from the grave
Calmarasoncochallayqui caihuigimanta
It's impossible to die, dear Ayacucho
When the wheat blooms from the grave
Calmarasoncochallayqui caihuigimanta
It's impossible to die, weaver of tenderness
The bullets won't diminish your heart
It's impossible to die, dear Ayacucho
History will sprout our glory
Dear Ayacucho, history will sprout
Our glory
