Puro, Chile, es tu cielo azulado;
Puras brisas te cruzan también.
Y tu campo de flores bordado
Es la copia feliz del Edén.
Majestuosa es la blanca montaña
Que te dio por baluarte el Señor,
Y ese mar que tranquilo te baña
Te promete futuro esplendor.
Puro, Chile, es tu cielo azulado;
Puras brisas te cruzan también.
Y tu campo de flores bordado
Es la copia feliz del Edén.
Majestuosa es la blanca montaña
Que te dio por baluarte el Señor,
Y ese mar que tranquilo te baña
Te promete futuro esplendor.
[Coro]
Dulce Patria, recibe los votos
Con que Chile en tus aras juró:
Que o la tumba serás de los libres
O el asilo contra la opresión.
Ha cesado la lucha sangrienta;
Ya es hermano el que ayer invasor;
De tres siglos lavamos la afrenta
Combatiendo en el campo de honor.
El que ayer se doblegaba esclavo
Libre al fin y triunfante se ve;
Libertad es la herencia del bravo,
La Victoria se humilla a sus pies.
[Coro]
Alza, Chile, sin mancha la frente;
Conquistaste tu nombre en la lid;
Siempre noble, constante y valiente
Te encontraron los hijos del Cid.
Que tus libres tranquilos coronen
A las artes, la industria y la paz,
Y de triunfos cantares entonen
Que amedrenten al déspota audaz.
[Coro]
Vuestros nombres, valientes soldados,
Que habéis sido de Chile el sostén,
Nuestros pechos los llevan grabados
Y nuestros hijos los sabrán también.
Sean ellos el grito de muerte
Que lancemos marchando a lidiar,
Y viviendo con ellos la suerte
Consagremos la tumba o el altar.
[Coro]
Pure, Chile, is your blue sky;
Pure breezes cross you too.
And your field embroidered with flowers
Is a happy copy of Eden.
Majestic is the white mountain
That God gave you as a bulwark,
And that sea which peacefully bathes you
Promises you future splendor.
Pure, Chile, is your blue sky;
Pure breezes cross you too.
And your field embroidered with flowers
Is a happy copy of Eden.
Majestic is the white mountain
That God gave you as a bulwark,
And that sea which peacefully bathes you
Promises you future splendor.
[Chorus]
Sweet homeland, receive the vows
With which Chile swore at your altars:
That you will be either the tomb of the free
Or the refuge against oppression.
The bloody struggle has ceased;
He who yesterday was invader is now a brother;
Three centuries of affront we washed away
Fighting on the field of honor.
He who yesterday bowed as a slave
Is seen at last free and triumphant;
Freedom is the heritage of the brave,
Victory humbles itself at his feet.
[Chorus]
Raise, Chile, your unblemished brow;
You won your name in the fight;
Always noble, constant and valiant
The sons of the Cid found you.
May your free citizens peacefully crown
The arts, industry and peace,
And sing songs of triumph
That frighten the audacious despot.
[Chorus]
Your names, valiant soldiers,
Who have been Chile's support,
Our breasts carry them engraved
And our children shall know them too.
May they be the battle cry
That we hurl as we march to fight,
And living with them our fate
We consecrate the tomb or the altar.
[Chorus]
