Awakening
When in the daydream
The idea is forged
The song that is born
Becomes thought
Then the sky
The man and his time
Travel the furrows
Of the song and the wind.
And from the daydream
Song and thought
The man is born
Furrow of his time
And the night remains
Behind the dawn
Then the sky
Becomes song and wind.
The light, the dawn
Drag the dreams
And flags emerge
That have no owner.
America is one
Brown and cheerful
It is voice and hope
Of the green valleys.
And it has guitars
That tune its cry
Made of woods
Tanned in blood
Quebracho of lineage
That no one knocks down
Verses and jasmines
Struggles and orange blossoms.
The countryside is a friend
Of plow and guitar
In strings that carry
Sound and words
If they play sadness
That belong to winter
In a very short time
It will be spring.
The road is long
That you have traveled
Mine is longer
After what has been done
I ask for the help
Of your bare feet
That have stepped on thorns
Brother of the countryside.
With dreams and harps
Paths are forged
Furrows of guaranias
Seeds to the wind
If you are of your time
Brother of the countryside
I ask for the help
Of your bare feet.
If America is one
And its cry is song
If plow and guitar
Bring you ideas
Give your hand
Your voice of guarania
Give the prayer
Of your harp and your song.