Vuelvo

With ashes, with tears
With this haughty impatience
With an honest conscience
With anger, with suspicion
With active certainty
I set foot in my country

I set foot in my country
And instead of sobbing
Of grinding my sorrow to the wind
I open my eye and its gaze
And contain the discontent

I return beautiful, I return tender
I return with my waiting
I return with my armors
With my sword, my vigil
My sharp sorrow
My omen, my sweetness
I return with my thick love
I return in soul
And I return in bone
To find the pure homeland
At the foot of the last kiss.

I finally return without humbling myself
Without asking for forgiveness or forgetting
Man is never defeated
His defeat is always brief
A stimulus that moves
The vocation of his war
For the race that banishes
And the race that receives
Will finally tell him that he lives
Pains of every land