Si te viera Garay

So many echoes and sounds populate you,
It's hard to imagine your first voice...
A 'tana' cadence with accordions
and the Hispanic root of the habanera.
Who founded you, knew that in the mixture
perhaps you would find as chosen,
that crucible of races and tenderness
that would later nourish your own life.

Oh!... If I saw you Garay
If he sees you...
How beautiful you are,
just proud,
he founds you again.

Who invented your port... How well he did it!...
With his eyes open, looking at the world
your waters were like baptism,
for those who anchored in your land.
In the blooming roses of your progress
there is a bit of my grandparents' blood
who arrived dreaming of the return
and chose to die under your ground.