Garzas Viajeras - José Larralde

Garzas viajeras novias leves del ayer

Con rumbo norte salpicando el cielo van

Y aquí mi río espejo muestra su vuelo

Como si fuera un pañuelo

Que enero lavando está

Y aquí mi río espejo muestra su vuelo

Como si fuera un pañuelo

Que enero lavando está

Hay un barquito que se hamaca sin cesar

Varias muchachas navegando por placer

Y allá a lo lejos canoa de pescadores

Son signo de sinsabores

Qué distinto atardecer

Y allá a lo lejos canoa de pescadores

Son signo de sinsabores

Qué distinto atardecer

Mire paisano yo anido entre pajonales

Pase si gusta compartir necesidades

Vida de pobre de esperanza se sostiene

Doblando el lomo pa' que otro doble los bienes

Bandera al viento el lienzo rubio del trigal

Se mece suave en ondas de oro

Y al volver

Buchonas grises las torcazas en el río

Antes de buscar los nidos

Van de su cauce a beber

Buchonas grises las torcazas en el río

Antes de buscar sus nidos

Van a su cauce a beber

Hay una fiesta allá en la loma del palmar

Está cumpliendo años el hijo del patrón

Y en un bendito apretao entre las totoras

Aquí abajo llora y llora, el gurí del hachador

Y en un bendito apretao entre las totoras

Aquí abajo llora y llora

El gurí del hachador

Mire paisano…

Mild Brides Traveling Herons of Yesterday

Heading north dotting the sky they go

And here my mirror river shows its flight

As if it were a handkerchief

that January is washing

And here my mirror river shows its flight

As if it were a handkerchief

that January is washing

There is a little boat that hammocks endlessly

Several girls sailing for pleasure

And there in the distance canoe of fishermen

They are a sign of trouble

what a different sunset

And there in the distance canoe of fishermen

They are a sign of trouble

what a different sunset

Look countryman I nest between grasslands

Come in if you like to share needs

Life of poor of hope is sustained

Doubling the loin so that another doubles the goods

Flag to the wind the blond canvas of the wheat field

It sways gently in waves of gold

and when you return

Gray pouters the pigeons in the river

Before looking for the nests

They go from their bed to drink

Gray pouters the pigeons in the river

Before looking for their nests

They go to their riverbed to drink

There is a party there on the hill of Palmar

The boss's son is celebrating his birthday

And in a blessed squeeze between the reeds

Down here cries and cries, the hatchet's guri

And in a blessed squeeze between the reeds

Down here cries and cries

The axer's guri

look countryman...