A pura ushuta

I like to go into the woods
To sing close to the river
Accompanied by a chalchalero
The cicadas make a trio

A chacarera rings out
From Tucumán for the drink
Pounded by a drum
From Santiago's band

An icancho is rehearsing
The composition that I sing
Not even Mandinga can stop
The rococo that the glass gives

Chacarera-chacarera carry all my tears
May the drum never stop if the river gives me its song

A little verse is approaching
Brought by January
Climbing up like a vine
In my soul as a guitarist

This mota chacarera
Is sprouting in my guitar
So the wind can take it
To Simoca's tent

My ushutas have a fever
When I drink some purple ones
Brushing the earth
With the chuncas on the side