Que Lindo Se Ha Puesto El Pago

How beautiful the payment has become
the road is no longer so sad
once again the weathered peasant sings
in the furrows.

As a miracle from heaven
through forgotten irrigation ditches
the water snakes its way
wetting the dry land.

Son of the most beautiful land
son of Santiago
the sorrows have ended
how beautiful the payment has become.

In the poor little ranch
so brave in the face of sorrows
accompanying vidalas
their old boxes resonate.

The sorrows of my countrymen
are relieved when they work
telling their hopes
they spend them in the furrow.

Son of the most beautiful land...