Tabaré

While everyone sings happily
Carols for Christmas
The Charrúa Indian sleeps
The deep infinite nostalgia
With the death of the great Tabaré

Even the mountain stirs fiercely
The streams seem to cry
And a sorrow enters the night
And in the mountain stirs quietly
alone and sad in its flight the thrush

Your song is no longer heard
The sorrows took it away
And there, lost in the mountain
A silent sorrow cries

Even the mountain stirs fiercely
The streams seem to cry
And a sorrow enters the night
And in the mountain stirs quietly
alone and sad in its flight the thrush

Your song is no longer heard
The sorrows took it away
And there, lost in the mountain
A silent sorrow cries
And there, lost in the mountain, oh!
A silent sorrow cries

Tabaré!