I have always longed to sing
the native male song of my nation.
To inform you,
to inform you that I too have been born.
In the terrain from the Atlantic to the Andes,
from the green Chaco to the Fuegian ice.
Just crazy dreams
of an Argentine gringo.
Pampas del Ranquel, Sierras del Comechingón.
Know that, whoever sings carries in the blood
the final story of the malón.
And know the moral:
He who does not catch is left,
that is why I am singing it.
Know the moral:
He who does not lame is left.
He who does not lame is left,
the whore who gave birth to him...
For the poor children who are not hungry,
by luck and the appearances of the evil light.
Christ the savior, by the tithe, Lord.
Here we must save his sins,
and come the Christians and the people, dying of hunger .
I have always longed to sing
the native male song of my nation.
To inform you,
to inform you that I too have been born.
In the field of Atlantic to the Andes,
from the green Chaco to the Fuegian ice.
Just crazy dreams
of an Argentine gringo.
Pampas del Ranquel, Sierras del Comechingón.
Know that, whoever sings carries in his blood
the final story of the evil.
And he knows the moral:
He who does not lame is left,
that is why I am singing it.
br/>Know the moral:
He who does not catch is left.
He who does not catch is left,
the whore who gave birth to him.

INVIA LE CORREZIONI