Ay Catamarca
Ay Catamarca
Ay Catamarca, madre del canto
por estas venas arde tu sol,
por estas venas arde tu sol.
Ay Catamarca, cómo soñaban
los ojos míos poderte ver,
poderte ver...
Fuiste la cuna de mis abuelos,
tu claro cielo los vio renacer,
los vio renacer.
Y allí mi madre, gracioso mimbre,
moreno pelo, se hizo mujer,
moreno pelo, se hizo mujer.
Ay Catamarca, cómo soñaban
los ojos míos poderte ver
poderte ver...
Ay Catamarca, ay Catamarca,
catamarqueño debiera ser,
catamarqueño debiera ser,
catamarqueño debiera ser...
Oh Catamarca
Oh Catamarca
Oh Catamarca, mother of song
through these veins your sun burns,
through these veins your sun burns.
Oh Catamarca, how my eyes dreamed
of being able to see you,
to see you...
You were the cradle of my grandparents,
your clear sky saw them reborn,
saw them reborn.
And there my mother, graceful wicker,
dark hair, became a woman,
dark hair, became a woman.
Oh Catamarca, how my eyes dreamed
to be able to see you,
to see you...
Oh Catamarca, oh Catamarca,
I should be from Catamarca,
I should be from Catamarca,
I should be from Catamarca...
Escrita por: Victor Heredia