Hombre de Los Pinos

Son of Mother Earth.
Blood of the ancient jungle
the copihues perfume you
warm, reddish flowers.

You emerge from age-old forests.
Through fiery cornfields
the canyon brings death
the bitterness of evils.

Furious lumberjack
by the ancient axe
the Andes' shelter
was your reckless path.

Muskets, lashes
and executioners of your people
punished your valor
peasant and sower.

Walker of beloved
sweat-soaked rocky terrain. (repeat)