Recuerdos de luna clara
Jorge Guerrero
Memories of a clear moon
Cousin, what a clear moon
What a clear moon, cousin
It makes you want to saddle a horse
Gentle and with a fine step
Wrap yourself in romance
And take a path
With a bottle of cane
For a country dance
To times that have already passed
And did not return like a wandering gale
That took ashes
And splinters of my destiny
Today I paint them in memory
While I evoke in my trill
My adventures as a boy
Hardworking and libertine
With the cocuyo lamp
Darkening among the voices of the pinguingo
And a chorus that blends with crickets and nightjars
Ruling winter picas
On the back of a dun ox
Scaring away the horseflies
With branches of clavellino
I remember dressing
In good linen clothes
Guachareñas espadrilles
And a Borsalino hat
Hair and guama very criollo
Platinum fair model
That's how I arrived at the dances
As a genuine plainsman
In the trunks of my chest
Plain of my soul, I keep like scrolls
The arrow of a gaze
Of a deep crystal
The syrup of some lips
Divine strawberry flavor
The guitar of a great body
The skin of an angelic face
In you I see her reflected
My clear moon
I kiss her hand and bow
I call her to reality
They are illusions I can't grasp
And then I tell the nights
Of passion and I don't finish
In a wild extravagance
With her by the mill
