Esteros de Los Tromplillos

I'm going on a journey
Through this plain of mine
On my cowboy mind
Taking advantage of the freshness
Of a picturesque awakening
That the morning offers me

Today dawned beautiful
The mountain is green
And the savannah clear
Although there are some dark clouds
Coming with intentions
To dim the sunshine

July is gone and August is coming
My flat land is flooded
Now any narrow little cane
Wets the Curana village
There are muddy puddles
Where the cattle gather
And some plaintive tones
Of toads, crickets, and frogs

Between infant and honey milk
With a liter of parmana
Singing on a steed
With my hat and my ruana
I was sprinkled with the desire
Of a tanned brunette
When will I bite again
Her little apple mouth

Marshes of Los Tromplillos
Where that calf was tied
On my gray horse
Son of the brown bull
From the number one brand

My sorrel was getting ruined
The bones of the old mule
We called 'crab'
Died six summers ago
My marshes are rotting
Like a sincere witness
Of how tough my plain is

As I head towards the cubarro
I have to leave early
There I will work with mud
Without being a pig's family
There the mountain is seen far
With a flat horizon
Although if they were crabs
I could touch it with my hand

Tomorrow when I return
Through the sovereign God
I want to remember the times
I walked when I was young
Working through your trails
Solitary and without a guide
Marshes of Los Tromplillos
I love you like a brother