El Criollo
S
The Creole
If you want to know my name
Ask the mountains
I go by Coleta
With Guardamontes as my last name
At this party, folks
I want to tell you
What a Creole man is
The local Creole
I was born in this land
Raised with pleasure in the saddle
I'll also run in the mountains
And catch the wild ones
I have several scars
From the blow of an animal
Like a man from the lowlands
I don't fear a wild bull
Oh my beloved land
I will never forget you
Because I'm a simple man
And a local Creole
The corral never lacks
A colt to tame
A bridle or a rein
And a lasso to tie
Guardamontes and Coleta
Apron, poncho, and hat
Are the very Creole clothes
That every man from Chaco has
The games of taba
And horse races
A little violin from below
That cheers up my countrymen
Oh my beloved land
I will never forget you
Because I'm a simple man
And a local Creole
