Sangre de Indio

Through the veins of my father
runs the blood as well
like me, blood of the Indian
who is silent, who cries, who loves
who knows how to suffer, that Indian
whom my mother loved because she knows
he is a faithful man and
thanks to God I have inherited
being Indian like him.

I no longer live amidst so much poverty
I live as my father dreamed, I do not
aspire to riches either
the Indian blood I carry is
better.

My brothers also carry
the Indian blood as I do
blood that paints the earth,
the earth that my father worked so hard.

My father left the land, my mother
crying behind him they left
everything to give me what later
life gave me.

I no longer live amidst so much poverty
I live as my father dreamed, I do not
aspire to riches either
the Indian blood I carry
is better.