Guitarra, Guitarra Mía
Julio Sosa
My Guitar, My Guitar
My guitar, my guitar
Through the paths of the wind
Fly in your harmonies
Courage, love, and sorrow.
Old folk songs of the past
Fought at your command;
My girl, hearing your song
With her deep eyes
Cried in pain...
My guitar, my creole guitar,
Tell her that this cry is mine!
Blue pampero nights
Where I calmed my anger,
There are two stars that die
When her eyes fall asleep.
Guitar of my loves
With your resonant plume
You drag my longings
Through withered roads
That dust off my sorrows.
My guitar, noble and blooming,
Be quiet if she forgets me!
Measuring eternal distances
Today from your strings
Come sounds that carry the fragrance
Of a forgotten gaucho time.
When your song rises
Life becomes clearer,
Sometimes your strings have
Sweet caresses
Of dark braided tresses.
Like a blue bird unbound
That’s how my creole guitar is.
