I feel I belong to my village,
to my people, to my land.
If, to learn what pleases me,
I crossed the frontiers,
I left footprints on my way
to guide me back home.
I have to admit
many times I felt very sad
because when you’re far away,
the blood longs for your land,
because when we’re far away
the blood longs for your land.
I feel I belong here,
to my kind people
to guaracha and tango,
that my land dances.
I feel I belong here.
In my veins runs
the color of sound and mambo,
and the one of my beloved land,
the color of sound and mambo,
and the one of my beloved land
I feel I belong to my village,
to my people, to my land.
Give back to Caesar what is Caesar’s.
The rest of that what remains,
to the one that his soul not aches
when the pain hurts him.
And if one has to go,
he understands well what he leaves,
but if it’s far away,
the blood longs for your land,
but if it’s far away,
the blood longs for your land.
I feel I belong here,
to my kind people
to guaracha and tango,
that my land dances.
I feel I belong here.
In my veins runs
the color of sound and mambo,
the one of my beloved land.
I feel I belong to my village,
to my people, to my land.
I feel more than ever
the power of my language,
the color of sound and mambo,
and the one of my beloved land.
I feel I belong to my village,
to my people, to my land.
I feel more than ever
the power of my language.
I feel I belong here.