Carta a un amigo

Letter to a friend
Dear friend the afternoon
He lies down in the river
And lying in the sands
I write this chamamé to you
And so from the north I will take you
To the south of your dreams
All the things that the wind
Brings me from Santa Fe

You will know that there in our payments
Where were you in the canoe?
All the people miss you
And eagerly wants to see you
And that looks downstream
In case one day you decide
Retracing the old channel
Return to these places

And I look at the waters of the river that one day
The Indians called
"sea relative"
And the mountain that is thrown in vain into its bed
Like a jangada that wants to row
And I think of those humble islanders
That cross and return from Santa Fe
Or in those others who have gone far away
And they only return in a chamamé

The blue sky that remained
Anchored in the jacaranda
Dream about a trip that was not
And on the riverbank it will always be
That rain of color

That paints the willow forest green
He says if it takes you long to come back
You dream at night of your coastline

Also the wind that comes
From the north of Santa Fe
tells me the old story
Born in Quebrachal
And the pain of the axemen
Bleeding the mountain piece by piece
So that at last the tannin
"The forester" took it

I finish this written letter
In the sands of the river
Waiting for its waters
They bring it to you there
And when you read it you wake up
Your Santa Fe lineage
And remember that although far away
They are always waiting for you here!

And I look at the waters...