Romance de La Luna Tucumana

Under the winter's dagger
The evening died in the fields
With its drum of sleeplessness
The moon came out to pray

Prayers in the white night
The harps of the air play
While violins are born
In the poplars of the valley
Zamba of the full moon
The night dances in the streets
With its handkerchief of corners
And its gesture of longings

The green sugarcane fields
Are wrapped in gray mists
And the roads walk
With their escort of orange blossoms

The night full of arpeggios
The cup of the walnut trees
The moon's drum
Hangs its song in the air

My heart claps
With the hands of my blood
While tired, the moon
Sleeps over the valleys