Ah Atahualpa
what a gift of song you left us
what words you found to lift those
gaucho rythms
baguala, chacarera, carnevalito
milonga, cueca, zamba argentina
you sang of solitude and distances
of your own griefs and those
of the indigenas
but also of their loves and of your own
and of the lives of simple folk
who dwell close to the earth
you urged a reverence
for the ancestors now become
one with the wheatfields
with the stones
lining the river bank
you sang the mountains
with their rushing streams
calling us back
to who and what we are
when we are true
to what is deepest in ourselves
and now its nearly thirty years
since you yourself
were called back but your voice
still reaches far beyond
the valleys that you loved
your melodies
your way with the guitar
the poetry with which
you shared your vision
of a world that few of us have known
through your gifts
became a deep reflection
on all we humans share
I like to think of you
again on horseback
guitar in hand
singing as you ride
the long trails of eternity