El Alma Del Payador (Milonga)

When the landscape dozes off
Under the calm night sky
And the full moon rises high
Lighting up the heavens
You can hear the strings harmonizing

From a guitar in the plains
And the hands keep time
With romantic shyness
Goes the soul of the troubadour
With his sovereign song

Marked at his birth
By the grace of the creator
This singer sprouted
The gift of understanding
He knew how to catch the winds

The voice of the vastness
And express it clearly
In his ten-line verse
The sadness of life
If freedom dies!

Son of a budding nation
Still half-formed
They sent him to fight
The overbearing leaders

He mingled with the people
Unitarians and federals
He had a banner, was loyal
But never did the troubadour
Get called a traitor
To his native flag

Troubadour, a wandering soul
Through the paths of art
That shines like a standard
The deep feeling
In the fruitful messages

With memories of history
He stirs up the memories
Of those who are neglected
To prevent forgetting
From bleeding the glories!