Craneo Candente

For your death.

Dodging patrols
Of the sick night,
Warm dawn on the plains,
Supported on legs.

Under the sun my burning skull
I seek to understand,
And the records of past time,
Unveil my mind.

I live the exile of the native man
Under the gray conquering magics.
Who still continue trafficking fear
Like yesterday gauchos to the desert.

I wake up on the roads
Of the dead land.
I observe myself with my brothers
Fed up with miseries
And stripped of all rights
By the white empire.

That in the exile of the native man
Has cultivated the cult of great fear.
That still continues atrophying lives
As in the cunning war of Malvinas.

My burning skull,
I seek to understand.
It wasn't empty,
My burning skull.

Thousands of immigrants
Make up the city.
They have mutated the Indian,
Taking his place.

They sowed death
Throughout the extension
Of this infected land
Without sense and without reason.

Dodging patrols
Of the sick night,
Warm dawn on the plains,
Supported on legs.

Under the sun my burning skull
I seek to understand,
And the records of past time,
Unveil my mind.

I live the exile of the native man
Under the gray conquering magics
That still continue trafficking fear
Like yesterday gauchos to the desert.

My burning skull,
I seek to understand.