La Arenosa

Sandy, little sandy
My land of Cafayate
He who drinks from its wine
Gains sleep and loses sorrow.

The water of Calchaquí
Father of all plantings
When one leaves and doesn't return
Sings crying and moves away.

Sand, little sand
Sand, cover my footprint
So that in the grape harvests
I can see my life again.

Moon of the medanales
Little moon of Cafayate
Moon of dark sand
In carnivals of absence.

Let me drink from your wine
The sap of Cafayate
And let me get lost in the cueca
Singing before I die.
Sand, little sand
Sand, cover my footprint
So that in the grape harvests
I can see my life again.