Abril Sanrafaelino

Sweet San Rafael April
When God uses you as a canvas
To enamel your landscapes
With his watercolor gaze

The plum tree bleeds carmine
The Atuel river passes roaring
And the pear trees steal
The fire from your sunsets

Chorus
Yellow San Rafael
And crimson reds
God spills in your air
His brush of love

The mountains in the distance
With their peaks pierce the sky
Their summits incarnadine
In white snow ponchos

The proud poplars turn
Into golden plumes
When their leaves flutter
Like captive canaries