MUSIC: Vuelvo

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Berkeley Review of Latin American Studies, Fall 2011

Horacio Salinas, the internationally renowned musician, composer and musical director of the beloved Chilean ensemble Inti-Illimani, taught a class for the Center for Latin American Studies during fall 2011.  While at Berkeley, Salinas also gave a recital for CLAS on November 1, 2011. (Photo by Jim Block.)
Horacio Salinas, the internationally renowned musician, composer and musical director of the beloved Chilean ensemble Inti-Illimani, taught a class for the Center for Latin American Studies during fall 2011.  
While at Berkeley, Salinas also gave a recital for CLAS on November 1, 2011. (Photo by Jim Block.)

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MUSIC

Vuelvo

Lyrics by Patricio Manns

Music by Horacio Salinas

I return

With ashes, with wounds

With this haughty impatience

With an honest conscience,

With anger, with suspicion,

With an active certainty,

I set foot in my country

 

I set foot in my country

And instead of lamenting,

Dispersing my sorrow to the wind,

I open my eye and gaze

And restrain my discontent

 

I return beautiful, I return tender

I return with persistent waiting,

I return with my armor,

With my sword, my sleepless nights,

My severed distress,

My omen, my sweetness,

I return with my profound love

I return in soul

And I return in flesh

To discover the unblemished homeland

At the end of the last kiss

I return finally without humiliating myself

Without asking forgiveness or oblivion

Man is never conquered,

His defeat is always brief

An enticement that inflames

The vocation of war,

As the nation that exiles

And the nation that welcomes

Will tell him that he lives

Sorrows of the entire land

I return beautiful, I return tender

I return with persistent waiting

I return with my armor,

With my sword, my sleepless nights

My severed distress,

My omen, my sweetness

I return with my profound love

I return in soul

And I return in flesh

To discover the unblemished homeland 

At the end of the last kiss.

Con cenizas, con desgarros,

con esta altiva impaciencia,

con una honesta conciencia,

con enfado, con sospecha,

con activa certidumbre

pongo el pie en mi país.

 

Pongo el pie en mi país

y en lugar de sollozar,

de moler mi pena al viento,

abro el ojo y su mirar

y contengo el descontento.

 

Vuelvo hermoso, vuelvo tierno,

vuelvo con mi esperadura,

vuelvo con mis armaduras,

con mi espada, mi desvelo,

mi tajante desconsuelo,

mi presagio, mi dulzura,

vuelvo con mi amor espeso,

vuelvo en alma

y vuelvo en hueso

a encontrar la patria pura

al pie del último beso.

Vuelvo al fin sin humillarme,

sin pedir perdón ni olvido:

nunca el hombre está vencido,

su derrota es siempre breve,

un estímulo que mueve

la vocación de su guerra,

pues la raza que destierra

y la raza que recibe

le dirán al fin que él vive

dolores de toda tierra.

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