Cueca Del Vino Nuevo

The March moon walks
With the morning star on its back
Illuminating the landscape
How I love to watch it
And this grape harvest scent
Is penetrating my soul

The Sun, master of the siesta
Stirring up the bunch
And the must that's already bursting
With its desire to become wine

This cueca is going around
Well watered, well watered
It has the color of the vineyards
Deep purple, deep purple
And if I dance it, my mouth
Starts watering

Poor vine
That remained lonely
It will have to wait a year
To dress up with grace

But it turns out that the juice
That is born from its depths
Tomorrow will be the new wine
Of this, my Cuyo land