Carillón de La Merced

I don't know for what strange
reason I found you,
Carillon of Santiago
who is in La Merced,
with your immutable voice,
the voice of my walk,
of an incurable traveler
who wants to forget.

Pilgrim miracle
that a cry combined.
Your song, like me
gets tired of living
and rolls without knowing
where to die...

You penetrated the secret
of my heart,
because hearing your sound
I named it unintentionally.
And that's how today you know
who she was and who she was,
the one I'm looking for crying
and... that I will not find!

My old confidence
I leave you, Carillon.
It remains in a chiming,
and when I leave again
I take your emotion with me
as a farewell.