Chamamé a Cuba

One January afternoon I took my canoe for a ride
They told me to be careful that with the storm I would get lost
But I'm a tough guy from Corrientes in my homeland and an expert in the delta

I left when the first lights of dusk were coming in

When it was already dark as a wolf's mouth, I tried to turn back
But the deceitful river pushed me to the shores of the sea
And discouraged, unable to see the coast anymore, to entertain myself
I lay on my back counting little stars and started to think

I thought about how little a man is worth when he is so alone
But I had an idea that made me react at that moment
I will do a feat like Vito Dumas, I will be Marco Polo
And when I return to my homeland, all the girls will want to kiss me

And after a few days of sailing
I was happy as I already believed I was Christopher Columbus
And I was sad when I saw the spot
That was not a whale but good land, what a joy

When I set foot on land and took a sniff in case it was Corrientes
And seeing a countryman with a shotgun, I asked him
If La Cambicha ranch was far away, he kindly said
You are in Cuba, socialist homeland, land of Fidel

I wanted to go back because of what I read in the newspaper La Prensa
But seeing the Cubans working happily for the future
Today the land belongs to everyone, there are no illiterates and even a child thinks
That whoever enters Cuba with warlike airs will not be able to leave

Because those rifles that yesterday aimed at the oppressed people
Are the ones today defending their revolution in the hands of the people
They are the ones that in my homeland are carried by military men with two last names
They are the ones we will have Moncho Raela, Jesusa, and Ramón

And with my canoe and my chamamé
I left Raúl Roa and set the bow towards my homeland again
And to the people of Corrientes I will be faithful, and here I finish
Long live Fidel, death to the Yankees!