Arriba Quemando El Sol

When I went to the pampa
I carried my heart
Happy like a lark
But there it died on me,
First I lost my feathers
And then I lost my voice
And burning under the sun.

When I saw the miners
Inside their room
I said to myself it's better to live
Like a snail in its shell,
Or in the shadow of the laws
The refined thief,
And burning under the sun.

The rows of shacks
Facing each other, yes sir,
The rows of women
In front of the only water pump
Each one with her bucket,
And with her face of distress,
And burning under the sun.

We went to the store
To buy the ration
Twenty items don't count
The mandatory discount.
With the basket empty
We returned to the boarding house.
And burning under the sun.

Dry zone of the pampa
Written on a sign
However, bottles of liquor come and go
Clearly not from the poor
Contraband from the gentleman,
And burning under the sun.

I pass by a dead town
My heart clouds over
Although where people live
Death is much greater
They buried justice,
They buried reason,
And burning under the sun.

If someone says I dream
A tale of exaggeration
I say this happens in Chuqui
But in Santa Juana it's worse.
The miner no longer knows
The worth of his pain,
And burning under the sun.

I returned to Santiago
Without understanding the pain
With which they paint the news
When the poor say no
Down with the dark night
Gold, blood, and coal,
And burning under the sun.