El Guajchito

They call me the little guajito
'Cause I'm just a poor guy
My old lady left this world
I was born all alone

I was born among the thorns
The locals watched me grow
In that little ranch
Halfway up the hill.

As a kid in my shorts
With pants that barely fit
A torn little poncho
And a shirt ripped by the side.

Toughened by poverty
And by countless sunburns
I feel happy living
In these blooming hills.

Early in the morning, I wake up
To the song of cardinals and thrushes
The sun surprises me in the hills
Shining through the quebracho trees

And in the afternoon, I go to the river
To swim like a little fish
At sunset, I come back
On my little donkey, Panshuco

Until I reach my ranch
I think about my fate
It gives me a feeling
To walk alone on the roads

But I grab my guitar
And the wind cries my sorrows
I'm from Santiago
Maybe that's why I'm so happy.