Molagavita

Walking by the lagoon
You’ll see Molagavita
A beautiful flower of the land
That decorates García Rovira

Through its steep streets
My childhood and my youth
Chased after their dreams
Leaving me with feelings
Of nostalgia and gratitude

Nostalgia for those streets
Where my joy used to run
Gratitude for the school
What happened to my friends?
Their traditional parties
Christmas with family
Are memories we carry
That the heart never forgets

Molagavita, the new
Land of progress and peace
Cradle of illustrious poets
Like Eugenio Pinto Barajas
And Luis María Carvajal
Who praised with their pen
My hometown
Where I go in my dreams
And where I always return
To shout long live the party
At its patronal festival

At the top of the lookout
You can feel the breeze
Coming from Chicamocha
To refresh its countryside

By the waters of the Black River
I’ve made it to the canyon
To dream in its current
With the Molagavitense
Owner of my heart
From the heights of the Indian
You can see its paths and ravines
The tireless farmers
Working in the mountains
Or down in the coal mine
Deep in its bowels
Extracting the hard coal
Putting their heart into it
Dreaming of a better tomorrow