El Cosechero
Mercedes Sosa
The Harvester
The old river that goes
Crossing the dawn
Like a great marsh
Carries the raft in its crazy sway
Heading to the harvest, harvester I will be
And, among white flakes, I will sing my hope
With calloused hands, I will leave in the cotton
My heart
The land of Chaco, quebracho and wild
Will ignite in my blood with a hoarse sapucay
And it will be, in the furrow, my hat under the Sun
Lighthouse of light
Cotton that goes, that goes, that goes
Soft silver wet with Moon and sweat
A little drunk ranch of dreams and love
I want
Cotton that goes, that goes, that goes
Soft silver wet with Moon and sweat
A little drunk ranch of dreams and love
I want
From Corrientes, I come
Barranqueras is already seen
And, on the coast, an accordion
Moaning goes its slow chamamé
Heading to the harvest, harvester I will be
And, among white flakes, I will sing my hope
With calloused hands, I will leave in the cotton
My heart
The land of Chaco, quebracho and wild
Will ignite in my blood with a hoarse sapucay
And it will be, in the furrow, my hat under the Sun
Lighthouse of light
Cotton that goes, that goes, that goes
Soft silver wet with Moon and sweat
A little drunk ranch of dreams and love
I want
Cotton that goes, that goes
Soft silver wet with Moon and sweat
A little drunk ranch of dreams and love
I want
