Hey, my boy, it seems that luck has changed
They are those men from above loaded with death
They bring their weapons that burn the skin if they hit you
They want to keep the lands, the forests and the sea.
How can I explain to you, my child, something that I don't understand?
They come closing the fields and making owners
And on their wild path bathing in blood
All the things that The sun shines in the afternoon.
Little tree...
You guide our path,
Little tree...
The pampas are your destiny.
The colonel and his troops advance across the land
They bring from Europe the newest manual of war
Savage Indians who have no God or government
They are going to have to learn to die like dogs!
A young Indian already fed up with so much arrogance
I would like to avenge so many fallen brothers
Anxiously waiting for the troops that come here, that come here
He turned to the brave colonel... and cut off the head!
Little tree...
You launch our path,
Little tree...
The pampas are your destiny
Little tree...
You launch our path
Little tree...
The earth is born to us in the cry!

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