Argentina, My Argentina!
Motherland of my entire blood!
I see you in my dreams lush, green
In the glory of your Sun,
Wholesome Sun that bathes you
Blesses you, makes you shine
In your desire that blossoms
Together with the hand of God.
I wait for you before departing
With your children cultivating
What the world is today awaiting
In your Honor and Dignity:
That Argentina, I, have been born,
To sing to you adorned
With a single truth:
That of your broad path
To be HIM, the Destiny
of total Humanity.

I want to see you blossoming!
I want to see you in Peace!
I want to see you awakened
And not lose you ever!

If from me you want my breath,
If from me you want my being,
I am yours to love you
In your new morning,
But give me back, then
The pride of feeling
That I do not want to lose you
Although, for that, I may have to die.
That I have walked other paths
Of dry arid lands and others,
Foreign, without roads nor flowers
Without vineyards nor fields,
Musty embittered lands
By not being able to germinate
Taking with each drop
Of my proudened blood
The lumimous conscience
When saying: I am Argentine!
Until one day, suddently
Strange profiles looked
At my sealed passport
With my nationality.

The violence, the mistakes,
The horror of it all
The swindling, robbery, the evil,
Darkened my brow!
How is it possible, they asked,
The voices inside me.
It is the embarrassment I feel
Before the world that looks on!
Crazy, insane, demented!
Beings that are no longer human,
Those are my own kin that walk
On my natal terrain?

Are we going to kill all of us?
Are we going to build a pile
Of bones, large and small,
Of just-born skin
Without giving it milk to feed?
Or are we going to water the mud
So that a flower may grow
And a good child may oversee
How his or her dove flies
Without fearing that it end
Its flight on the earth, fallen
By a mortal bullet?

But, And so what?
Can it be that God, or Life
May teach us to value
That we must conjugate
The verb to Love in its entire meaning?

To love its soil, its grass
Its wheat, its blue sky
Its stars, and rose gardens,
Its singers of spring (the birds),
Its forests filled with marvels,
Its raised frontier:
Its living beat!
Oh blue sea of hope!
Oh wholesome rocky terrain!
Oh herbalist! Oh rice dealer!
Oh road on the early morning's dawn
With mint, linden, thyme!
Oh wholesome colt, little colt!
Oh wool from Patagonia!
Oh green expanse from Misiones!
Oh red flower of ceibal!
Lift yourself up, all complete!
Argentina of my blood!
Be born again, Oh Giant!
I only want to love you!

Now very well, I ask you:
Argentine!
Prodigious son, unconscious!
What do you need, lunatic, To be able to react?
To empty the coffers, the funds,
Make the poor poorer,
The rich richer,
Pervert with a false tune
What the earth gives you?

Seize the advantage
Of a year or two of mandate
So as to "embark"
In Switzerland what you have robbed from me?
Drink imported nectars,
And feed the livestock,
So as to sell it with mad cow desease
And in this manner deceive those foreigners
Like as if it was some other issue at stake?

Are you not the son and daughter
Of the inmigration of the world
That came to give us the race
That mixed with the native indian?
Strong, beautiful, gorgeous race,
Examples of crucibles
That sowed and grew
With song,
In its poets, the heroes,
The children, the innocent
Who you killed with your hands
As if they were not
What is called: YOUR BROTHERS?

Who are they that destroy?
Who are they that kidnap?
Is it all of us? Is it one of us?
Who raises them? Who nurtures them?

Who allows that they subsist?
Are we going to keep on sleeping?
Are we going to keep on eating?
While the war unleashes
The chaos, vile barbarism
That transits disguised
Like if nothing were the matter;
Make an artform: DEATH?

I ask you, Argentine!
Is this our image?
Is this the gaucha image,
The one we will give as an example
To the children of your child
That some day may arrive?
Will you be able to look them in the eye,
Show them with indifference
That we do not have a conscience
of fomenting HUMANITY?

If this is the way it is, then I do not know you!
If this is the way it is, then I've never seen you.
You are a strange plunderer
That my language does not comprehend nor speak
Neither at my table, nor in my Faith:
I have NEVER seen you, I know!
Aberration with three eyes!
Deformed, lost monster!
Son of the dark!
I, and my country, curse you!

Argentine!
Your Argentina rewards you with
What by law you do not deserve:
A chosen and Blessed Land!
A promised, priviledged, holy Land!
Paradise of Goodness!
SAVE HER! I ask you,
In the name of God, or of Heaven!
But SAVE HER! I implore you
Before the moment in which,
Sunken and defeated
We all lose what we inherited:
A tremendous piece of Grace:
This is, REALITY!

Lift her up, all complete
Argentina of your blood!
Make her come to life! Oh Giant!
Only you will help her!
So that her slumber, her rest, may return
to walk along her River!
So that the world smile
With the gold of her wheat!
For her bread!
OH! SALVALA!