El Cosechero
Luiz Carlos Borges
The Harvester
The old river flows
Crossing the dawn
Like a big water lily
It carries the raft in its wild sway
Heading to the harvest, I will be the harvester
And among white flakes, I will sing my hope
With calloused hands, I will leave in the cotton
My heart
The land of the Chaco, rugged and wild
Will ignite my blood with a deep sapukay
And in the furrow, my hat will be under the sun
A beacon of light
Cotton, that goes, that goes, that goes
White silver soaked in moonlight and sweat
I want a little house drunk on dreams and love
From Corrientes I come
Barranqueras is in sight
And on the shore, an accordion
Moans its slow chamamé
Heading to the harvest, I will be the harvester
And among white flakes, I will sing my hope
With calloused hands, I will leave in the cotton
My heart
The land of the Chaco, rugged and wild
Will ignite my blood with a deep sapukay
And in the furrow, my hat will be under the sun
A beacon of light
Cotton, that goes, that goes, that goes
White silver soaked in moonlight and sweat
I want a little house drunk on dreams and love
I want it
