Al Pie de La Santa Cruz

At the Foot of the Holy Cross

They declare the strike
There is hunger in the houses
The work is too much
And the pay is little
And in that mix
Of bloody struggle
A man avenges
The employer's law

The old folks don't know
That they condemned him
For his poor wife
Lies, mercifully
Perhaps a miracle
Will bring him a pardon
And the happiness of yesterday
Will return to his home

Meanwhile
At the foot of the holy cross
A desolate old woman
Crying implores Jesus
For your wounds that are holy
For my sorrow and my pain
Have mercy on our son
Protect him, Lord!
And the old man
Who no longer knows how to pray

With a trembling voice
Also protests at the same time
What wrong did we do
To deserve so much pain?
And, in turn, the old woman says
Protect him, Lord!

With shackled feet
He crossed the gangway
His wife looks at him
She wants to scream
And the innocent boy
He carries in his arms
Says crying
I want daddy!
They released the moorings
And the last rope
Vibrated, as it detached
Throughout his being
The accursed ship
Is lost from sight
And the poor woman faints