Run Run Se Fue Pa'l Norte

In a car of forgetfulness,
before clarifying,
from a station of time,
decided to roll
Run Run went up North,
I don't know when he'll come.
He'll come for the birthday
of our loneliness.

Three days later, a letter
with coral handwriting,
tells me that his journey
is getting longer and longer,
he leaves Antofagasta
without giving a sign,
and tells of an adventure
that I will spell out
oh woe is me.

In the middle of a crowd
that he had to face,
a transfer due
to the last hurricane,
in a broken port
close to Vallenar,
with a cross on his shoulder
Run Run had to cross.

Run Run continued his journey
reached Tamarugal.
Sitting on a stone
he began to ponder,
about this and that,
nevertheless,
that life is a lie
that death is truth
oh woe is me.

The thing is that a saddlebag
started to rummage,
took out paper and ink,
perhaps a memory,
without sorrow or joy,
without glory or mercy,
without anger or bitterness,
without gall or freedom,
empty like the hollow
of the earthly world
Run Run sent his letter
just to send it.
Run Run went up North
I stayed in the South,
in between there's an abyss
without music or light
oh woe is me.

The calendar loosens
through the train wheels
the numbers of the year
on the edge of the rail.
The iron turns more,
more clouds in the month,
the rails are longer,
the aftertaste is more bitter.

Run-Run went up North
what are we going to do,
that's life then,
thorns of Israel,
crucified love,
crown of disdain,
the nails of martyrdom,
vinegar and gall
oh woe is me.