National Anthem of Antioquia

¡Oh freedom that perfumes the mountains of my land, let my children smell your fragant scents!

I I love the Sun because it goes free, all over the bluish sphere, the hurricane because it whistles with freedom in the jungles.

II the axe that my forefathers gave me for inheritance, I love it because at its hits free accents sound.

III despot tyrants forge long and hard chains for the slave that humble bent over their feet kisses.

IV I that was born haughty and free over an antioquenian land carry the iron in my hands because in the neck it weights.

V i was born over a mountain, my sweet mother tells me that the sun brighted my cradle over a peeled range.

VI born free as the wind of the antioquenian lands like the condor of the Andes that flights from mountain to mountain.

VII eagle pigeon that is born over the top of a rock always likes the peaks where the winds refresh.

VIII when I go down the valley and hear the trumpet calling, i go up to the high mountains to give the alert voice.

IX guys, i tell to all the neighbors of the jungles the trumpet is calling... there's tyrants in the range!

X my fellows, joyful, the axe in the mountains leave to hold in their hands the lance that the sun plates.

XI with the bags in our backs we walk plains and hills, and we cross the mountains and wide rivers and high ranges.

XII and when at last we see, there in the wide plains, the enemy's tents bleached with smoke and people,

XIII we fly as hurricanes spilled over the earth, poor of whoever expects the pressure of our scrambled lances!

XIV we forgive the surrendered because there's also nobleness in the brave hearts that fill the ancient jungles.

XV when we come back thriumphant the girls of the villages put flower crowns in our cold foreheads.

XVI in the light of the joyful afternoon pale, tan, fresh of the mountain on it's peak our houses bleach.

XVII we walk singing to the valley because the heart feels happy; because it make us scream just to see our land.

XVIII is the prayer; the bells sound with paused knocking; with the bags in our backs we are walking up the hill.

XIX the breezes in the hills descend filled with scent, the moon brights full and lights the road.

XX happly bark the dogs behind the groves; the heart inside us of joy beats and tembles...

XXI we walk... we walk... and you bleach... and they bleach... and are opened with their noise of the houses the doors.

XXII tears, screams, sighs, kisses and tender smiles, in squeezed arms and in emotions they burst.

¡Oh freedom that perfumes the mountains of my land, let my children smell your fragant scents!