Translation of the song lyrics Cuñaq - Curawaka

Cuñaq (original)

Desde Cuñaq viene
Agüita serpenteando
Por las acequias y en remolinos
Hacia nuestras vidas
Desde Cuñaq viene
Agüita serpenteando
Por las acequias y en remolinos
Hacia nuestras vidas
De cantar gualinas
Y a la vez llorando
Toditas mis penas se acabaron
Pachamama está de fiesta
Una estrellita
Que alegre me decía
«Canta, cantorcito, al agüita
Al agüita madre Cuñaq»
Una estrellita
Que alegre me decía
«Canta, cantorcito, y al agüita
Al agüita madre Cuñaq»
Desde Cuñaq viene
Agüita serpenteando
Por las acequias y en remolinos
Hacia nuestras vidas
Desde Cuñaq viene
Agüita serpenteando
Por las acequias y en remolinos
Hacia nuestras vidas
De cantar gualinas
Y a la vez llorando
Toditas mis penas se acabaron
Pachamama está de fiesta
Una estrellita
Que alegre me decía
«Canta, cantorcito, al agüita
Al agüita madre Cuñaq»
De cantar gualinas
Y a la vez llorando
Toditas mis penas se acabaron
Pachamama está de fiesta
Pachamama está de fiesta

Cuñaq (translation)

From Cuñaq it comes,
A little water, coiling like a silver snake,
Through the furrowed ditches, spinning in eddies,
Winding its long sigh toward our days,
From Cuñaq it comes,
A little water, coiling like a silver snake,
Through the furrowed ditches, spinning in eddies,
Winding its long sigh toward our days,
From songs of gualinas I am woven,
And in the same breath, I am weeping,
All the ragged shadows of sorrow have vanished,
Pachamama lifts her skirts in festival,
A lone starlet
With joy in her voice, confided to me,
‘Sing, minstrel, to the shimmering water,
To the mother-water, Cuñaq’s own,’
A lone starlet
With joy in her voice, confided to me,
‘Sing, minstrel, and praise the living water,
To the mother-water, Cuñaq’s own,’
From Cuñaq it comes,
A little water, coiling like a silver snake,
Through the furrowed ditches, spinning in eddies,
Winding its long sigh toward our days,
From Cuñaq it comes,
A little water, coiling like a silver snake,
Through the furrowed ditches, spinning in eddies,
Winding its long sigh toward our days,
From songs of gualinas I am woven,
And in the same breath, I am weeping,
All the ragged shadows of sorrow have vanished,
Pachamama lifts her skirts in festival,
A lone starlet
With joy in her voice, confided to me,
‘Sing, minstrel, to the shimmering water,
To the mother-water, Cuñaq’s own,’
From songs of gualinas I am woven,
And in the same breath, I am weeping,
All the ragged shadows of sorrow have vanished,
Pachamama lifts her skirts in festival,
Pachamama lifts her skirts in festival