I don’t sing to the moon
just because it shines
I sing to her because she knows
of my long trek.
I sing to her because she knows
of my long trek.
Oh, little moon from Tucumán!
Little calchaki drum,
Companion to the gauchos
in the Tafí trails,
Companion to the gauchos
in the Tafí trails.
(Chorus)
Lost in the storm clouds
Who knows, my love, whereabouts I may be!
But when the moon comes out
I will sing, I will sing
To my dear Tucumán,
I will sing, I will sing, I will sing,
With hope or with sorrow,
In the fields of Acheral
I have seen the good moon
Kissing the reed field,
I have seen the good moon
Kissing the reed field.
We are similar in something,
moon of loneliness,
I go walking and singing
which is my way of shining.
I go walking and singing
which is my way of shining.