Madre de la piel oscura,
de los pueblos morenos,
de los hijos migrantes
y de la tierra latina que volviste florida.
Mujer que une las manos
y viste de estrellas,
que mira y da paz,
que escucha y baja en la luna.
Madre del Sol, del indígena,
madre de las sierras y de las rosas.
Tan pulcra en la tilma, te bordo en mi ruana.
Llévanos del sur a Dios, humilde Guadalupana.
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