Corazón de Quebracho

God placed His fruitful hands on the wood
Great tamer of quebracho from my Santiago land

With a chisel, a gouge, a wooden hammer
And a heart of quebracho deeply rooted in the ground

Afternoons filled with friends, long nights of guitar
Those times I recall, the intense smell of wood

Your workshop is fragrant, my friend, poetry and legends
To Roberto Benavidez, I sing this chacarera

I hear the thud of your hammer echoing
To the rhythm of chacareras, spirits will dance

The kakuy left its whistle on a January afternoon
Asking you to find its first love, its beloved

Keep hammering, craftsman, let your sounds ring out
Your heart of quebracho guards your traditions

Your workshop is fragrant, my friend, poetry and legends
To Roberto Benavidez, I sing this chacarera