p. 244
First Line:
Trigoy maíz era tu voz, mano de sembrador
Reference
Culture:
About the Song
Translation(s)
Translation:
SONG TO VICTOR
Wheat and corn was your voice, a sower's hand,
Copper soul, bread and coal, son of the weather and the sun.
Your singing was a flower of metal, a shout of the crowd,
Worker with a weapon in his fist, North and South wind…
You fell there, together with thousands others when the pain was born,
Sickle and hammer was your heart, red from life it opened/cracked open…
The people will water you in its garden of light,
You'll be a clarion of fight and love. You'll be a song of Chile.
Wheat and corn was your voice, a sower's hand,
Copper soul, bread and coal, son of the weather and the sun.
Your singing was a flower of metal, a shout of the crowd,
Worker with a weapon in his fist, North and South wind…
You fell there, together with thousands others when the pain was born,
Sickle and hammer was your heart, red from life it opened/cracked open…
The people will water you in its garden of light,
You'll be a clarion of fight and love. You'll be a song of Chile.