Sube a nacer conmigo hermano [English translation]

Rise to birth with me, my brother.

Give me your hand from the depths

of your spread pain.

You won't come back from the depths of the rocks.

You won't come back from subterranean time.

It won't come back, your enraged voice.

They won't come back, your drilled eyes.

Rise to birth with me, my brother.

Look at me from the depths of the earth,

cottager, waver, silent pastor.

Tamer of totemic guanacos,

mason on your daring platform,

water boy of the Andes' tears,

jeweler with the smashed fingers,

farmer, trembling in your seed,

potter wasted in your clay.

Bring to the cup of this new life

your old deep pain.

Rise to birth with me, my brother.

Show me your blood and your furrow.

Tell me "Here I was punished!"

Because the jewel didn't shine

or the earth didn't deliver in time the stone or the grain.

Show me the rock where you felt

and the wood where they crucified you.

Light with old flints

the ancient lamps, the whips stuck

in your wounds through centuries,

and the axes with shining blood.

I came to speak through your dead mouth.

Tell me everything, chain by chain,

link by link, step by step.

Sharpen the knives you kept.

Put them in my chest and in my hand

like a river of yellow lightning,

like a river of buried tigers

and leave me to cry.

- Hours, days, years, -

blinded ages, stellar centuries.