Caminantes

From the hills they come down
Through the ravine to my eyes
They bring the voices of other times

They are different wise men
They are children of the Sun
And they dream (and they dream)

Native brothers, peasants
Behind us, you are there
We are you
Latin America

Everything for everyone
And nothing for us
Walkers

With their colorful wipala
They descend to the sound of the bells
Bringing the peace and knowledge of the Andes

They are different wise men
They are children of the Sun
And they dream (and they dream)

Native brothers, peasants
Behind us, you are there
We are you
Indoamerica

Everything for everyone
And nothing for us
Walkers