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In Venezuelan soil, ancestral flavour,
the soup on the cooker, an unequalled tradition.
From the Venezuelan plains, aroma and passion,
heritage cooking, heart in action.
It is cooked in firewood, the seasoning is awakened,
my laughing sister with expert mastery.
Wind in stern, the soup gives its dance,
Aroma that embraces, on the bonfire trust.
With patience and affection, it mixes and melts,
flavours that evoke stories that flood.
It is the magic of union, in each spoonful,
traditions that nourish in a peaceful land.
A cooker that burns with eternal fire,
recipes that speak in an inner tale.
In the warmth of the hearth it glows,
the soup on the hearth, where the soul blossoms.