Nuestro Cobre
Quilapayún
Our Copper
Our copper
the flesh of the pampa
embedded in the red earth
that lives up there in the north.
Soaked in sun and mountain
reason for the men
and mixed with blood and soul
of a whole poor people.
Our copper
born among the hills
and stolen by foreign hands
exchanged for money.
It wasn't Chile who drank from your sap,
it wasn't the miners,
and they made you a cannon and put you
against the peoples.
Our copper
now you are at home
and the homeland receives you excitedly
with wine and guitars.
Your owners are the same ones who died
because they wouldn't take you
and from here they won't move you
with sabers
nor tanks nor bullets.
Our copper
the flesh of the pampa
embedded in the red earth
that lives up there in the north.
Like a child who never imagined
the joy of being a man
you have triumphed for the good of the Chileans
we will no longer be poor.
From your fruits will come new life
better times will come.
Forever the copper is in the hands
of the workers.
