Editor’s Note: This poem is available exclusively in Quechua-English edition.
Chuqik’irawchaw
Q’umir kuka k’intuwan
saminchasqa k’intusqa
inka llaqta; yachay wasi.
Sara aqhawan ch’allasqa,
llama pichuwan saymasqa,
inkakunaq samaykusqan llaqta.
Munasqay Chuqik’irawchay,
intitaytaq qhawaykusqan urqu
killamamaq samaranan patacha,
qantapunin musqukuyki
quyllurkunawan t’akaykusqata,
sach’akunaq sunqunmanta
k’ancharimushaqta.
Munakusqay Chuqik’irawchay
ñawpaykunaq ñawpa llaqtan,
kisuhina rumimanta q’allasqa
chhuqlluhina rumimanta pirqasqa,
qantapunin musqukuyki
Apurimaq takiyniywan qarpasqata,
riw q’intichaq t’ikanmanta
t’ikarishaqta, munay llaqta.
Munasqay Chuqik’irawchay
yuraq phuyuwan chalinasqa,
pachakamaq
q’umir punchunwan punchuykusqa,
pachamamaq
wankaykunan saywa patacha,
qantapunin musqukuyki
Salqantaypa paka k’inrayllanpi
qimisqa willkayusqata,
muyuriqninmanta apukunawan
qimisqa qinchayusqata.
Yaw Chuqik’irawchay,
munay ch’aska llaqtay;
riw q’intikunaq llaqtan.
Tuta p’unchaw
lliphi lliphipipispa
sunquyta suwawaqtiyki,
nuqapas
quyllur quyllurmanta
urmaykamuyki
t’ika huertuykiman
urpi yanay mashkaq tumpalla.
My Lovely Chuqik’iraw1
Homeland of the Inkas, house of wisdom,
purified by koka leaves,
infused with the energy of the k’intu2.
Homeland animated with the Inka’s breath,
made sacred by the smoke of llama’s chest,
anointed with chicha, mighty corn beer.
My lovely Chuqik’iraw,
mountain of the father sun I looked at and took care of,
small place where mother moon rests,
I always dream about you
sprinkled with the shining stars
lit up
from the trees’ deepest core.
My lovely Chuqik’iraw,
ancient village of my ancestors
carved in stone like cheese,
erected with stone walls like corn
I always dream about you,
irrigated by the Apurimac chant
winging of hummingbird in its flower
my beautiful and blossoming village.
My lovely Chuqik’iraw,
summit of the pillar of stones,
enfolded in the white clouds
of Pachakama3,
dressed in the balmy green poncho
of Pachamama4,
I always dream about you,
supported by the hidden side of the Salqantay,
made sacred by the surrounding
holy mountains,
strengthened by the misfortunes.
Hey you, my lovely Chuqik’iraw,
my beautiful village of stars,
village of the riw hummingbird.
When you are sparkling
between the dawn and the darkness,
you steal my heart,
then I too
from star to star
fall over you
into your huerta5 full of flowers
as if I were looking for my lover.