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Today I find myself very far away, very far away
From the land where I was born
From my parents and my siblings
And from the neighborhood where I grew up
Nostalgia destroys my soul
And I would like to come back, you know.
The memory makes me sad
Sadness makes me cry
And between tears it seems that I look
To my people and my sweet home
And also to my blessed mother
That he must surely pray for me
I long with all my being
Return to my beloved town
If my God will grant it to me
To die there with my people
Come on, come on, buddy
Up Juantillo, Sinaloa, my friend
The memory makes me sad
Sadness makes me cry
And between tears it seems that I look
To my people and my sweet home
And also to my blessed mother
That he must surely pray for me
I long with all my being
Return to my beloved town
If my God will grant it to me
To die there with my people
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