Los Inundados
Mercedes Sosa
The Flooded Ones
Roaring, the water comes
from the Paraná
rising night and day
without stopping.
Shantytown, cliff, log
take it away
with wind and downpour
the Paraná.
My ranch up to the ridge
is already flooded
neither the ceibo nor the aromo
display flowers.
The afternoon was sad
when I left;
the yerutí sang
its sweet lament.
Sailing down the river
to Santa Fe
the canoe is loaded
with nets, sticks, gear
I saved them from the shantytown.
I will return down the river
to Santa Fe.
The water came roaring
I was left poor
no ranch or shelter
I will have.
They will not take me from the land
where I was born
fighting against the current
I will live.
The sky is clearing up
the chajá flies
calandrias and crestudos
are already singing.
So the day will come
when I will return
to rebuild my ranch
in Santa Fe.
