Tropero Padre

Troper father,
I return searching
the trace of your trace
under the suns of the year,
behind which gallop
your shadow faded away...

The same land
that I sing and walk
saw you forge paths
towards the winds of Arauco,
troper of my blood,
father of clay and quebracho.

You have returned to the earth
from where you came,
galloping in silence,
to temper my voice.
And today you return with me,
returning singing...

So many roads,
troper father,
lit up my eyes
with distance and remoteness,
creation of your dreams,
I am just a wandering town...

Heading in your name,
Lucas Tejada,
your troop opened the way
for the homeland to pass,
gallop in the legends
the guitars will tell you.