Puro, Chile, es tu cielo azulado,
Puras brisas te cruzan también,
Y tu campo de flores bordado
Es la copia feliz del Edén.
Majestuosa es la blanca montaña
Que te dio por baluarte el Señor,
Y ese mar que tranquilo te baña
Te promete futuro esplendor.

Esas galas, ¡oh, Patria!,
esas flores Que tapizan tu suelo feraz,
No las pisen jamás invasores;
Con tu sombra las cubra la paz.
Nuestros pechos serán tu baluarte,
Con tu nombre sabremos vencer,
O tu noble, glorioso estandarte,
Nos verá combatiendo caer.

English Translation:

Chile, your sky is a pure blue,
Pure breezes blow across you,
And your field, embroidered with lowers,
Is a happy copy of Eden.
Majestic is the snow-covered mountain
That was given to you by the Lord as a bastion,
That was given to you by the Lord as a bastion,
And the sea that tranquilly washes your shore
Promises future splendour for you,
And the sea that tranquilly washes your shore
Promises future splendour for you.

CHORUS:

Gentle homeland, accept the vows
Given, Chile, on your altars,
That you be either the tomb of the free
Or a refuge from oppression.