La Copla
Atahualpa Yupanqui
The Ballad
Fisherman from the deep sea
My friend always used to sing
One day his ballad returned
With the farewell of the boat
I saw miner's blood running
Over hardened bread
next to the clenched hand
the moon turned into wheat
Don't give me sorrows in life
I have enough with what I have
Like the quebracho tree from the mountain
I flourish after the axe
The indigenous man works on the stone
His tunnel of silence
And under its shadow
My songful heart takes shelter
I feel it moan in the wind
Crossing mountains of thorns
I go out on the road and shout
To serve as a guide
Up there in the sky
Goes the wounded moon
Like a lost ballad
That no longer has a guitar
The indigenous man works on the stone
His tunnel of silence
And under its shadow
My songful heart takes shelter
