Chacarera de Guailama

I wish I could be in Guailama
Under the guayacan trees with my hat on
Dreaming of the open fields in my eyes

With my hat over my eyes
I wish I could be in Guailama, smelling the
Fresh tracks, the scent of the land is calling

The scent of fresh tracks is
Calling out, the wild boar's tusks
Selling fireworks way out in the distance
Chacarera of Guailama, land of the wild chacho
I have everything I want except
Cash in my pocket