I live on a little island

that at night

the same song

is always played

and rewritten.

In this Caribbean island,

a small 

nocturnal creature

always plays a guiro 

that's broken... 

This frog

is considered a god 

and it's praised 

with anthems 

that are golden.

When the moon is scared 

or brave 

our Coquí is always there, 

he's natures token.

With a pava they sing:

"Me comí un limón y pal' barrio corrí "

Coooquííí, Coqqquí, Coqquuuí, Cooqqquíííí...

Millions of them

practice in my garden, 

but they all sing in perfect sync.

One gets tired 

and another 

takes its places 

in a blink!

Such pretty frogs 

with brown tones 

and black lines

that look like ink.

My ancestors danced 

to their 

never-ending song,

I can't believe

that some of them 

went extinct.

With a cuatro they sing: 

"Le dije a mi suegra que me pasara el maví y con un pastel me lo comí " 

Coqqquííí, Coooquuuíí, Coqquuííííí, Coquuuí...

Our little old men 

and women

that sing with patriotism 

were once envied by others.

Hunted

like prey and

disgraced like slaves,

they were forced to cross Pacific borders.

Their song was like poison

to the Hawaiians ears, 

even in forced land 

they're like a chorus.

I hate my country 

and for its government 

I will not stand,

but even if I go

my Coquí's song

will always follow me 

like blood brothers.

With amapolas they sing: 

"Puedo ser pequeño, pero soy tan persistente como el maní"   

Cooquuuí, Coooquííí, Coqqquuíí, Cooquíííí...