Luna de Tartagal

I sing to your green eyes of sleepy gaze,
That you keep in your sky, brunette,
Brunette, brunette, when you walk.
Harmony of jealousy has your waist

That's why I sing to you, brunette,
Brunette, brunette, my hope.

I met you very close to the border,
Under the moon of Tartagal;
And since then my sweet owner,
You are the queen of my orphanhood.

Ripe fruit, tasty mango,
From my Argentina, tropical sun.