El Pimiento

In the center of the pampa
lives a pepper.
Sun and wind for its life,
sun and wind.

Crowned by the stone
lives the pepper.
Moon and wind watch over it,
moon and wind.

When its branches bloom
it's a fire,
so much red it spills,
all red.
All red.

No one sees it working
under the ground
when it searches night and day
for its food.

Red pepper from the north,
atacameño,
I feel the song of your branches
in the desert.

You must keep blooming
like a fire
because the north is all yours,
all whole.
All whole.