Gabino Barrera

Gabino Barrera did not understand the reasons
Walking in drunkenness
He was carrying a pistol with six magazines
It pleased anyone
He wore a bulging square mustache
His cloth around his neck tangled
Blanket pants, leather jacket
He was wearing a hat

Their peasant feet wore huaraches
And sometimes I walked by the roots
But he liked to pay the mariachis
The money didn't matter to him
With a bottle of beer in hand
He shouted "Long live Zapata!"
Because the southern Indian was a rancher
He was the son of a good mother

He was tall, well built, and very broad-shouldered
His face was badly painted
His black gaze gave him an air
To the vulture of the mountains
Gabino Barrera left women
With children everywhere
That's why in the towns where he walked
They had her sentenced
I remember the night he was murdered
He came from seeing his beloved
Eighteen Mauser shots rang out
Without giving him time for anything
Gabino Barrera died as they die
Men who are bragados
For a brunette he lost as they lose
The roosters in the covers