TO YOU MY DEAR VENEZUELA

What is the country? the boy asked his father,

Is it simply land? Is it sea, is it heaven?

Not finding in his mind a response to give,

He searched the heart finding example.

Homeland is land watered with blood

of our ancestors who were heroes,

of our old people with veins that are roots,

of seeds arising from strong ideals.

Seeds of a dream called freedom,

dreams of being born growing in their own land,

green hope of seeing homeland buds,

flourish in healthy earth, rich in equality.

Homeland is not simple land that bathes the water,

it is earth soaked in years of history,

a past that in the present drains,

carrying fruits and crops of glory.

Glories of battles chasing a dream,

looking for less rugged roads,

removing stones that prevent progress,

forming the homeland with struggle and effort.

Homeland is sea of

ideals in my current,

it is spirits sunk in oppression

arising united in a resurgent sea,

full of freedom, justice and nation.

Nation that is the pride of all their children,

of patriotic men, of struggle and fervor,

Men who made my land a niche,

forged heroes of enormous value.

Homeland is clear sky where they fly free,

the dreams achieved of peace in union,

sky that covers us with a firm roof,

that protects everyone in the same condition.

Sky, sea and land of only place,

where the eagle landed on the cactus,

where the Spanish mixed with the Indian,

uniting his story in the same home.