Zamba Del Arribeño

For wandering in the hill
I am a highlander and somewhat wild
I go erasing paths
I'm a cunning puma that they won't find
Men search for my trail
And the forest hides me, I'm just a shadow

Driving a flock of sheep
My old flute spills a deep feeling
And in its lying lament
It becomes a mourning for the moaning people
And if my woman hears it
I know she cries to see me coming

I'm going to cry the vidala
I caress the land to accompany
A drum made of goat skin
Born in the back hills of Mollar
And a voice of wild ways
For those who want to feel me sing

I have a shelter to the west
A warm bed to share
And a couple of dun mules
In case you don't want to ride on their backs
Maybe under the poncho
My dear, I'll hide you if you say yes

I'm a storm cloud
If wine encourages me
And instead of fighting
I beat my drum without fear
A herd of guanacos give me their skins
And calm down the devil
Who's lurking around if I go out to drink

I'm going to cry the vidala
I caress the land to accompany
A drum made of goat skin
Born in the back hills of Mollar
And a voice of wild ways
For those who want to feel me sing