Tonadas de Manuel Rodríguez

Madam, they say where,
My mother says, they said,
The water and the wind say,
That they saw the guerrilla.

It could be a bishop,
It could and couldn't,
It could just be the wind
Over the snow:
Over the snow, yes,
Mother, don't look,
He's coming galloping
Manuel Rodríguez.

The guerrilla is coming
By the stream.

Leaving Melipilla,
Running through Talagante,
Crossing through San Fernando,
Dawning in Pomaire.

Passing through Rancagua,
Through San Rosendo,
Through Cauquenes, through Chena,
Through Nacimiento:
Through Nacimiento, yes,
From Chiñigüe,
From all sides comes
Manuel Rodríguez.

Pass him this carnation,
Let's go with him.

Let the guitars go out,
For the homeland is in mourning.
Our land darkens.
They killed the guerrilla.

In Tiltil they killed him
The assassins,
His back is bleeding
On the road:
On the road, yes,
Who would have thought,
He, who was our blood,
Our joy.

The land is crying.
Let's go in silence.