Aonikenk

Aonikenk, aonikenk, aonikenk
On each bank of the Santa Cruz River
Silence is crying for you in the blue
Where yesterday, your step drew, the cross in the wind
Guanaco hunter spinning in the wind
Guanaco hunter spinning in the wind

Aonikenk, aonikenk, aonikenk
Everything was yours, the sea, the river, the lake, the sky
The fleeting Sun's glow on the snow
You were the king, wandering dreamer, of the deserts
Rhea feathers spinning in the wind
Rhea feathers spinning in the wind

But other men arrived
With a gift and another voice
To earn your trust
They immersed you in alcohol
Then the same being who taught you
Also called you drunk
While offering
A coin for your ears
A coin for your ears

Why? Why does yesterday's wind ask?
The one who kissed the forehead of the innocent who fell dead in the ravine?
Why the pure blood spilled in ambition
In a land that still remains a desert today?
Oh! My land, oh! My land
Why were you depopulated, if they don't know how to populate you?
Why so many ears, if they don't know how to listen?!

Aonikenk, aonikenk, aonikenk, aonikenk, aonikenk...