Campana de Palo

I am the Argentine teacher
Second mother and worker
My children walk barefoot
My school is a ruin

I am the one who shapes destinies
From the sea to the mountains
Where chalk does not exist
And the book is a chimera

Wooden bell
Rings in the solitude
Letters of gunpowder and stone
Time will pile up
Poor little country in bloom
My love has reached its limit here

I am the Argentine teacher
The one who is alone and waits
I live mending hardships
And comforting miseries

I am the one who teaches her children
To worship the flag
Of this generous country
From the heart outwards