Gringa Chaqueña

Now you are
The cradle of peace
And work
When I inhabited you
You were pure tacuruses

Flowerless mountain
Indigenous and tented
Fields of thorns
Bitterness, crosses...

Blood of my people
Your mature horizon
Gringos fertilized you
With their skin and sweat

Let me say
What I gave you
Let me tell
Of this Chaco that I made

I worked you
Made of your skin
A new shade
I gave you cotton
I offered you children
Harvest faces

Wild Chaco
Redomon Toba
I was a whole woman

Your vacant land
Was a big cradle
Rough and maternal

Your sterility
I fertilized
Every new moon
And giving you life
I have felt myself
Quite gringa and also chaqueña