La Catre e Tiento

The song of the charatas brings back memories
Of my little ranch and my mom back in the hills
I remember the cot where I used to sleep
And the sheepskin blankets that I had

There aren't even the posts left in the shelter
Where my mom would brew mate in the mornings

I'm off, strumming my guitar to ease the pain
Pour some wine for the ride, I want to hit the road
Wandering alone in the mountains, I hear a stampede
It’s probably my horse wanting to come back

I can see Aliso somewhere out there
Setting traps for the foxes, I can't forget
I want to drink from the Pilcomayo
My throat's dried up from singing so much

I'm off, strumming my guitar to ease the pain
Pour some wine for the ride, I want to hit the road