Triunfo de los vencidos

(Triumph)

This is the triumph, mother,
of the defeated;
of those who have nothing,
of the suffering.

They never had anything,
less shelter;
holding the fate
of some leader.

This is the triumph, mother,
that I sing and shout;
for so many dead gauchos
unknown.

They were told about fighting,
they tested the knife;
they grabbed their ponchos,
smiling at their son.

This is the triumph, mother,
of the lost ones,
turned into the land of the plains,
water of the river,
dust whirlwind,
espartillo flower;
this is the triumph, mother,
of the defeated.