Carta a Mi Padre En El Cielo

Father, I come from the road, I made a stop at your dwelling
I bring a tired forehead, I want to rest for a while
Life doesn't give a good deal, if luck is already cast

That Argentine pride that you taught me to feel
Today it makes me suffer so much, because I can't understand
Why it's hard for us to learn, to live on this earth

Father, I want to tell you, that back in the big city
Lies and truths sleep under the same roof
It's worth nothing to be right or to live with dignity

Men who in their long speeches mention sovereignty
Sell the country day and night to the highest bidder
And fill the drawer with their chatter

Father, I know it's not new what I'm telling you
The gaucho always had to dance with the ugliest
But even if you don't believe it, something will have to change

You who plowed the land, were captain of the wheat
Told the seed, friend the land has no owners
And opened furrows and spent dreams
Turning thistles and nettles

To this granary of the world, they bring all the grains
But on that handrail, we always end up losing
They stay eating, we have nothing in our hands

My father, so much is said, everyone has a little stool
They send the little speech, but no one wants to plow
When it comes to working, the cockfights are over

For one who lives plowing and spent his daily effort
There are rows of intermediaries, shameless drones
Who keep the best and work without a schedule

I believed, my father, that Martin Fierro and his story
I would keep in my memory as a mere memory
But Fierro is still relevant, only Hernandez is in glory

No evil lasts 100 years, no temptation that doesn't break
And no people can endure deception forever
A group of decent people will come to rule from south to north

I, who was born a peasant, with little rural school
Learned the perfect difference between good and evil
From the silent their science and from the loud their immorality

It's hard for me, you know, father, to endure so much indecency
Because my gaucho conscience doesn't understand for what reason
The children of the land are children of indifference