only one verse and a chorus
Pure, Chile, is your blue sky;
Pure breezes cross you as well.
And your flower-embroidered field
Is the happy copy of Eden.
Majestic is the white mountain
That was given to you as a bastion by the Lord
That was given to you as a bastion by the Lord
And that sea that calmly washes your shores
Promises you a future splendor
And that sea that calmly washes your shores
Promises you a splendid future.
Chorus
Sweet fatherland, accept the vows
With which Chile swore at your altars:
Either the tomb of the free will you be
Or the refuge against oppression
Either the tomb of the free will you be
Or the refuge against oppression
Either the tomb of the free will you be
Or the refuge against oppression
Or the refuge against oppression
Or the refuge against oppression.