Chicharra Cantora
Las Voces de Oran
Singing Cicada
Oh, cicada, I don't want you to sing
If you sing, you take away my sleep
There's no rest for this poor lumberjack
In the siesta of the Salteño Chaco
Little cicada, could your song
Turn into a chacarera
And sing it for the carnivals
In my homeland all night long
Is your life so short, cicada
I no longer hear your song that I want
It has already gone through the carob trees
It will return with the sound of February
Your song ripens on the quenti
Blonde blade, sweetness of the poor
The alhoja will give if it ripens
A comfort for my sorrows
The cicada with the little cicada
Have fun singing in the siesta
The fearful countrymen of the devil
Spend their time making promises
Oh, cicada, summer violin
I sing alone in the celestial sky
At the release of the Sun of the puddles
Announcing in the song its death
When my life returns to the earth
As yours returns in February
I will be back again
Butterflies of verses and dreams
Your song ripens on the quenti
Blonde blade, sweetness of the poor
The alhoja will give if it ripens
A comfort for my sorrows
