La Gorostiaguista

At the tip of a dagger, Sir Manuel Gorostiaga
Has sworn, fought, to conquer or die
And risks his life to triumph

The Sun trembles, as it kisses the edge of the marsh
Why does the wind whistle
And chest as it passes by
Death comes dancing in a zamba

In the light A song from the soul of Santiago
And the Gorostiaguista is going to mix
Becoming a song and the verses of guitar playing

And the Gorostiaguista is going to mix
Becoming a song while playing the guitar

In the fight, mercilessly it turns into tears in the salt flat
The sound of the cricket in the carob forest
The strumming and the drums beating

In the light it always is, behind the nightfall
This zamba whistling memories that go
Stringing necklaces of sunset

In the light A song from the soul of Santiago
And the Gorostiaguista is going to mix
Becoming a song and the verses of guitar playing

And the Gorostiaguista is going to mix
Becoming a song while playing the guitar