El Despido

Secundido Barbosa was my friend.
When I was born, he was already a peon at home;
And I stopped crawling to be attached
To his modest chiripá de apala.

I knew how to be a troublesome kid.
I didn't have a garment that satisfied me,
And there I was, quindín, which was his nickname,
Fishing the moon in the streams.

I have it well clear in my memory
Of the night of the assault on the ranch;
Stone fort that withstood in its time
Many sharp attacks from the natives.

Tata was stationed, to defend himself,
His trusted personnel in the houses;
And mama, as if pregnant with death,
Wore an apron pregnant with bullets.

I started to get scared, but in those moments,
At the orange flash of a gun,
I saw quindín barbosa turn into a beast,
With a shotgun next to my window.

And the fear left me; drowsiness came over me,
And to the barbaric lullaby of the shots,
I fell asleep and dreamed the whole night,
That that gaucho was the guardian angel.

Time passed slowly, which is the way
It passes through the countryside,
And in my friend, I found a teacher who gladly
Taught me scratching away my ignorance.

He taught me to make braids and knots,
And entangled in the reins and conversations,
He gave me the secret of the criollo's virtue,
Which is to be strong and resilient, like the weeds.

And he was modest and kind...
Always roaming the countryside, he brought
To the 'boss', a hare or a fox,
Or some pigeon or calandria chick.

I will never forget that afternoon
When he went to ration the horses,
And I, tied to the jingle of his spurs,
Approached to watch how he handled them.

He filled a ditch for the golden one,
Who was an imported devil, his father's pride,
The cursed one was jealous and determined
To distribute the teeth and hooves!

I hadn't even approached him, when I saw the gleam
In his wild eyes, hatred in flames,
He burned my cheek; the fangs
Tore the distance like a rag.

I felt a collapse and was amazed by the stallion
Kicking on the ground with gasps,
While Secundino's raised fist
Was a knot in the girl's skirt.

And there you have it, see? That's why it was the dismissal.
The horse had cost him a good sum of money,
And the man didn't explain what happened,
Because it would be wrong to explain it.

He left the office as if in a daze...
He was already in the corral with the sorrel
And began to saddle him slowly,
As if he enjoyed inspecting the claws...

Then he rolled a cigarette; in rough affection
He patted my head; his gaze
Filled with stars... he sighed,
And wiped his forehead with his sleeve.

Driven by a sudden rush,
He made the sorrel spiral,
And grabbed the reins at a trot...
I just understood what was happening,
And didn't know what to do, I was so young!

The sorrow tied a knot in my throat
That suddenly I untied with a scream;
The sun turned the shadow of Tata towards me:
He's leaving, daddy, my friend is leaving!
Who will catch my moon in the streams,
When the wild wind brings his frightened herds
To my pillow?

And let the chilcal unleash the cries
Of the werewolf, and let the dogs tremble.
The shotgun of Secundino won't be there
Like a brave sun in my window.

It was to save me that he killed the stallion!
He went to bite me and he brought him down!
As he said later: 'It was written...'
Will he blame me? The guardian angel?

Tata was a good, understanding man,
It hurt him, you know? without words
He went to the gate; let out a cry,
And Secundino stopped the sorrel
With a tug that sat him on his haunches!

He ran back, an echo of affection
Picking up the length of the call...
'Mande, boss...

--Stay, Secundino,
The kid doesn't want you to go.