La Piragua

The canoe, the canoe
The canoe, the canoe
The grandparents told me that a long time ago
A canoe sailed in the Cesar
Departing from the old bank port
To the beaches of love in Chimichagua

Braving the gale, it trembled
And impassively defied the storm
And an army of stars followed it
Studding it with light and legend

It was Guillermo Cubillos' canoe
It was the canoe, it was the canoe

Twelve rowers with skin the color of majagua
And with them the fearsome Pedro Albundia
At night they would pull a
Melodic roar of beautiful cumbia from the oars

Twelve shadows, now old, no longer row
The wood no longer creaks in the water
Only memories remain in the sand
Where the canoe lies dormant