Voz de Acordeones

They say that the night was even darker
they say that the afternoons never died
they say that in the past of my land
a thousand passions, a thousand fantasies
grew in stanzas (Repeat).

They also say that life was beautiful
like a rose, like a carnation
the accordions offered their notes
valuable and soft from that time.

But a cowardly hand
stained some verses with blood
took the life of a poet
today from an accordion come out
screams that are immortal
voices that Octavio remembers.

I wasn't in the dark night of the great past
to the banana zone was the rebirth
my songs from this land have been my tears
I die for the peasants of sorrow and thirst
I am the pride of the people, the nightfall
of the dreaming girls I am their charm.

They say that never a hope
was left in the middle of the road
they say that love and longing
like the sun of our race
were the only destiny (Repeat).

They also say that in those times
everything was beautiful, everything was love
today the great desires are already foundering
but in the town, a singer dies.

The breeze brings us songs
that are a sea of delirium
music, dream, and memory
today the accordions cry out
nostalgia of the Badillo river
its last goodbye to a troubadour.

I am after my sunset the only voice
that like a wounded mockingbird returns to sing
to sow my dreams in my town
I was the singer of the hills, the river, and the sun
who left a cheerful note in every anxiety
and a melody in the souls of my loves.