A mis Paisanos

This northern cueca
To my countrymen goes
And in it I carried the soul
along with my loneliness.

The desert is witness
that others also yesterday,
from the mountain came down
promising to return.

The panpipes remained
in their corner of being
And the sunrise sun
I will not see again.
Larailarai...
and in it I carried the soul
along with its loneliness.

The desert is...