Pregoneros Del Viento
Las Voces Del Chañaral
Wind Criers
So much thirst, so much giving
For the good land
Mother was and will be
Of freedom
For the old glutton
Sweet syrup
For the crying child
Syrup with bread
Here come those who go
Being our race
To earn that bread
Which is their reality
There are blankets
Warm blankets there are
Fleece of light and loom
To warm the nights, look at them
I am a people, being light
Of the passing time
With my faith, I will know
That it is the awakening
Little pots cooked
I bring them to you, with a little fat
So you can prepare humitas
With cheese and seasoned
With my hands
I crafted silver
For the necklace
I am wind that as I walk
Revives the flames
I always go without knowing
About the darkness
From the valleys I come
With herbs to heal you
Among the herbs I have
There are charms for the ailments
I am a people for peace
A song that is sown
It was a dream and grew
In solitude
(Quod libet progressive with all the cries)
Smoke is where they go
Leaving the sorrows
I sing knowing
That they will not return