Charango

Sing charango
Let the quena help you sing
Let the lovers be silent
And the river carry the sorrow to the sea.

Sing loudly charango,
Mix of guitar and mud
You still have a lot of land
A lot of complaint in your songs.
Sing to the bull's skin
That gave blood to your strings
And still asleep there in your womb
A fandango from Huelva.

Today my guitar has died
Tomorrow I will bury it
Sing loudly charango
For my singing mourns.
The one who sang to me has died
I have no proclamation left
Sing, my charango
If the drone still vibrates in you.

She had poems
And sang to me about life
But now she is asleep
And knows nothing of sorrows.