Trasnochados Espineles

I who was in Paso de la Patria
Where the sky is in the cup
Of the flowering trees
I could see up close the hope
Drawing on the faces
Of the poor fishermen

They carry their song on the surface of the water
They desire nothing more than their existence
Centuries passing without laurels
Night owls in the thorns
Incarnated with patí

Beware the fisherman's rigging
Perhaps a surubí is hooked
How I want to shout
That I too was born
On the blue bank of the Paraná

A playful dorado jumps
Mirage of gold and silver
By the magic of summer
Touch of mysteries in the river
When from afar arrives
Riding a scream

An accordion plays chamamé
Paso de la Patria, Guarani
My song in sum is eloquent
If you've never been to Corrientes
You don't know my country

Beware the fisherman's rigging
Perhaps a surubí is hooked
How I want to shout
That I too was born
On the blue bank of the Paraná
My song in sum is eloquent
If you've never been to Corrientes
You don't know my country
My song in sum is eloquent
If you've never been to Corrientes
You don't know my country