have tried in vain, and blows of shrapnel,
bring down the veil of your swollen eyelids
manly tears poured from the homeland,
Shame and insomnia, when the late afternoon,
Spring pretends not to know that you're dying.
In vain have cut off the path of your steps,
Rising flower moaning on the threshold of heaven,
Escondida in your shadow, nettle is born,
Frostwolf summer, which displays the north, without shame,
His paw and orphan of auroras, the wind roars.
Erecting this dream has cost us blood
still cost more blood and pain to lose.
land wound of silence, the
Terror iniquity bequeathed to our race, there
Under the Southern Cross, where the night was scourge.
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