Mi Viejo Mate Galleta

My old mate cookie,
what sorrow I felt for losing you,
what hand cut short your luck,
maybe the hand of time,
I even thought you were eternal,
never imagined your death.

In your green belly,
how many landscapes I saw,
how many verses I strung together,
while enjoying your bitterness.
How many times I made you last,
and you knew why.

When the yerba mate was scarce,
due to lack of coins,
you never asked for reasons,
but you gave me advice,
drink up, but grow old,
without reaching the heels.

And in those dark winters,
when the frost whitened,
your little body warmed up,
my hands with its heat,
so that the singing friend,
would join the guitar,

and right there the party started,
you and I, in a one-on-one,
mate and guitar in the clearing,
mate and guitar in the shade,
for miles around,
there was no better waterhole.

Ah, companion and brother,
what a sneaky destiny,
I never gave you the lime,
I found calm in you.
In this farewell, I put my soul,
my old mate cookie.