Popurri de chacareras

(Chacarera of the stones)

Here sings a wanderer
who has walked a lot
and now lives peacefully
in the red hill.

I release my verses to the wind
everywhere I go
I am a tree full of fruit
like a little plant and mistol.

When I saddle my horse
I set off through the sands
and halfway through the journey
I forget my sorrows.

I walked to Santa Elena
El Churqui, Rayo Cortado
there's no place like my homeland
long live the red hill.

(If it's about singing)

I was surrounded by guitars
drums and gaucho outfits
wow, how good they look
on all those countrymen.

If you're already twenty years old
and can't make up your mind
come to folklore
you don't need an invitation.

(From the north of Cordoba)

In Santiago, the chacarera
has the grace that the fish has in the sea
but listen to this one that I bring
from the depths of the north of Cordoba.

In Deán Funes I found it
sung by a singing cricket
and in the distance it was accompanied
by the rattling of a motor car.

And it's not to compare
because the taste is in the variety
just know that in my homeland
we dance chacareras like the best of them.

(Enter my homeland without knocking)

I suffered a lot
walking far from my homeland
to run so much
to get nowhere
and I was where I was born
what I was looking for was there.

Friendship is gold
that cannot be bought or sold
it is only given
when it is felt in the heart
it's not something to be used
only when it serves you and nothing more.

That's how my countrymen
show their friendship
their hands are
bread, a piece of meat, and mate tea
and the flower of humility
usually perfumes their humble home.

Life has been lent to me
and I have to give it back
when the creator
calls me for the delivery
may my bones, skin, and salt
fertilize my native soil.