¡Salve, Oh Patria, mil veces! ¡Oh Patria,
gloria a ti! Y a tu pecho rebosa
gozo y paz, y tu frente radiosa
más que el sol contemplamos lucir.
I
Indignados tus hijos del yugo
que te impuso la ibérica audacia,
de la injusta y horrenda desgracia
que pesaba fatal sobre ti,
santa voz a los cielos alzaron,
voz de noble y sin par juramento,
de vengarte del monstruo sangriento,
de romper ese yugo servil.
II
Los primeros los hijos del suelo
que, soberbio, el Pichincha decora
te aclamaron por siempre señora
y vertieron su sangre por ti.
Dios miró y aceptó el holocausto,
y esa sangre fue germen fecundo
de otros héroes que, atónito, el mundo
vio en tu torno a millares surgir.
III
Cedió al fin la fiereza española,
y hoy, oh Patria, tu libre existencia
es la noble y magnífica herencia
que nos dio el heroísmo feliz:
de las manos paternas la hubimos,
nadie intente arrancárnosla ahora,
ni nuestra ira excitar vengadora
quiera, necio o audaz, contra si.
IV
De esos héroes el brazo de hierro
nada tuvo invencible la tierra
y del valle a la altísima sierra
se escuchaba el fragor de la lid;
tras la lid la victoria volaba,
libertad tras el triunfo venía,
y al león destrozado se oía
de impotencia y despecho rugir
V
Nadie, oh Patria, lo intente. Las sombras
de tus héroes gloriosos nos miran
y el valor y el orgullo que inspiran
son augurios de triunfos por ti.
Venga el hierro y el plomo fulmíneo,
que a la idea de guerra y venganza
se despierta la heroica pujanza
que hizo al fiero español sucumbir.
VI
Y si nuevas cadenas prepara
la injusticia de bárbara suerte,
¡gran Pichincha! prevén tú la muerte
de la Patria y sus hijos al fin;
hunde al punto en tus hondas entrañas
cuando existe en tu tierra; el tirano
huelle solo cenizas y en vano
busque rastro de ser junto a ti.
Chorus
We greet you, Oh Fatherland, a thousand times!
Oh Fatherland, Glory be to you! Glory be to you!
Your chest, your chest, overflows,
Your chest overflows with joy and peace;
And your radiant face, your radiant face
is brighter than the shining sun we see,
And your radiant face, your radiant face
is brighter than the shining sun we see.
1st verse
Your children of the yoke were outraged,
For they were imposed by the audacious Iberians,
By the unjust and horrendous disgrace,
Fatally weighing upon you.
From the skies a holy voice cried out,
that noble voice of a unbreakable pledge,
to defeat that monster of blood,
that this yoke of yours would disappear.
2nd verse
The first sons of the soil, noble
Which the proud; the Pichincha adorns,
They declared you as their sovereign lady forever
And shed their blood for you.
God observed and accepted that sacrifice,
And that blood was the prolific seed
Of other heroes whom the world in astonishment
Saw rise up around you by the thousands.
Rise up by the thousands, Rise up by the thousands.
Chorus
3rd verse
At last the fierce Spanish yielded,
And now, oh fatherland, your free existence
The noble and magnificent heritage,
That gave us the happy heroism:
It was given to us from our fathers hands,
Let no one take it from us now,
Nor wish to excite our vengeful anger,
Any foolish or bold, against itself.
4th verse
Of those heroes of iron arm
No land was invincible,
And from the valley to the highest sierra
You could hear the roar of the fray;
After the fray that victory would fly,
Freedom after the triumph would come,
And the Lion was heard broken
With a roar of helplessness and despair.
5th verse
No one, oh fatherland, tries it. The shadows of
Your glorious heroes watch us,
And the value and pride that inspire
They are omens of victories for you.
Come lead and the striking iron,
That the idea of war and revenge
Wakes the heroic strength
That made the fierce Spanish succumb.
6th verse
And if new chains are prepared by
The barbaric injustice of fate,
Great Pichincha! you prevent the death
Of the country and their children in the end;
Sinks to the deep point in your gut
When there in your land, the tyrant
Let him trample upon only ashes and in vain
Look for trace of any being by you.
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