I did not know its history,
One day I was born there, simply.
The old port monitored my childhood
Face with cold indifference.
Because I was born poor and not always tube
A fear inconceivable to poverty.
I would like to tell what I have seen
So that we leave knowing.
The inhabitant chained to the streets
Rain destiñó stairs
And a blanket of sadness was covering
The hills with their streets and their children.
And the storm came and drizzle
With its load of sand and waste.
For Hence step death many times
Death that enlutó to Valparaiso
And once again the wind as usual
Cleaned the face of this port injured.
But this port amarra as hunger,
One can not live without knowing,
You can not watch without us missing,
Pitch, the wind south, volantines,
Catching crabs that the entrisstece
Our landscape the waterfront.
(..." My dreams and this song
VALPARAISO today that arises in
In the hope that one day
Aya resurgiera in cubieta
A vessel of a schooner
A child antiguao q wait ...)
I did not know its history,
One day I was born there, simply.
The old port monitored my childhood
Face with cold indifference.
Because I was born poor and not always tube
A fear inconceivable to poverty..