Arauco tiene una pena

Arauco has a sorrow
That I can't keep quiet
Centuries of injustices
That everyone sees being applied
No one has provided a remedy
When it could be fixed
Rise up, Huenchullán

One day comes from afar
The conquering Huelcufe
Searching for mountains of gold
That the Indian never sought
The Indian is content with the gold
That shines from the sun
Rise up, Curimón

Then the blood runs
The Indian doesn't know what to do
They're going to take his land
He has to defend it
The Indian falls dead
And the outsider stands
Rise up, Manquilef

Where did Lautaro go
Lost in the blue sky
And the soul of Galvarino
Was taken by the southern wind
That's why they pass by crying
The skins of his kultrún
Rise up, then, Callfull

Since the year fourteen hundred
The afflicted Indian is
In the shadow of his ruca
They can see him whimpering
Reeds of five centuries
Will never dry up
Rise up, Curiñán

Arauco has a sorrow
Blacker than his chamal
It's no longer the Spaniards
Who make them cry
Today it's their fellow Chileans
Who take away their bread
Rise up, Cayupán

The votes are already roaring
They're heard nonstop
But the Indian's lament
Why isn't it heard?
Even if it echoes in the tomb
The voice of Caupolicán
Rise up, Huenchullán