Mi Llanura

Venezuelan plain... Venezuelan plain
With love I want to sing to you
Because like you, none
My heart expands
Just by naming you plain
For being the greatest creation of the Lord in the heights

I remembered in my song: Your estuaries, your lagoons
Your green sheets after the rains
The smell of the mastrantal, my plain that perfumes you
Watching the white herons fluttering in the thicket
When the morning cart greets you with its song
The tune of a plainsman with the whip and the calabash... Yes, the calabash, my plain, you taught me
Your tampas were my cradle
Your paddocks my teachers
Your thickets my pen, with which I learned to write on horseback
You saw me walk, treating me with tenderness
When your wild breeze touched my naked skin
Feeling happier in this tough life
That's why I sing to you, my plain
My heart beats faster
Wanting to shout loudly
So the world discovers
My plain, you are everything
You and my land are one
I would never trade you
Not even for the greatest fortune
That's why I proudly say: How beautiful is my plain!

My song follows the path of the plain with its lagoons
So its five states proudly unite
Cuaricuacura in Cojedes, Portuguesa and its widths
Marinas, how much I love you, never doubt it

A plainsman is always a plainsman, unafraid of the dark night
Not scared of the ghosts that abound in its sheets
Nor of lightning, nor thunder
Nor of the fiercest growling beast
That's why in my singing, between the first and second
And the strumming of a harp, while the cuatro hurries me
And some capachos that sound, I bid farewell with bravery

With bravery, if we all fight together
For my great and pure homeland
Which, due to treacherous hands, is now in the shadows