La Cueca de Los Picados

They said, they said some furious ones,
They said that the Parra deviated,
They said, about the harp and the accordion,
They said, and about the same guitar,
They said, they said some furious ones.

Little guitars and bass drum,
Boxes and flute
Are more indigenous, my child,
Than the guitar.

Than the guitar, my soul,
In the charango
The sorrows shine through
Of our monkey.

With trutruka and kultrún
We're heading south.