Ando Por La Huella (Zamba)

All the tenderness of a memory I have
When in bygone times I start to think
The dirt patio, the sand cart
And that old bay horse I used to saddle
The dirt patio, the sand cart
And that old bay horse I used to saddle

For me, there are no Sundays like the Sundays
Those that will not return to the villages
With the Aganías, with the Montenegros
The Chilean Rojas and the crazy Echezar
With the Aganías, with the Montenegros
The Chilean Rojas and the crazy Echezar

And in the give and take that life gave me
I drank the cane of reality
And I walk along the trail, lacing memories
With that guitar I brought from there
And I walk along the trail, lacing memories
With that guitar I brought from there

The old Herreras and the Indian Lugones
In some star they will both walk
There are no gates for the poor gauchos
They have all the sky, why would they need more?
There are no gates for the poor gauchos
They have all the sky, why would they need more?

I don't cry for the memory because I don't forget
If I was born in a town, why would I deny it?
The good and the bad, for bad and for good
In that guitar, I want to sing it
The good and the bad, for bad and for good
In that guitar, I want to sing it

And in the give and take that life gave me
I drank the cane of reality
And I walk along the trail, lacing memories
With that guitar I brought from there
And I walk along the trail, lacing memories
With that guitar I brought from there