Mi Viejo Potro Tordillo

In the corner of the paddock my gray stallion was lying down
As if waiting for death to rest for a little while
His jaws somewhat purple, stiff and like a vice
Among the worn views of time, Sun, and roads
The landscape was entangled by the buzzing of the mosquitoes

Cursed sad fate, the Argentine horses

I was spreading grass when a truck stopped with a loud noise
Full of freight, chestnuts, sorrels, bays, pintos
The man offered me money to take my gray stallion away
I said: No, thank you, why do you want him?
He said, yes, he's no good for anything anymore, and I'll pay you right now
And instead of dying here, let him die at the slaughterhouse

Cursed sad fate, the Argentine horses

I thanked him again for not knocking him down with a blow
Then I managed to tell him: Just keep going on your way
Let the freight take him to die the death he has chosen
In the pampas he knows, in his sky and his path
Where the wire ends and the thorn bushes begin

Cursed sad fate, the Argentine horses

Don't feel fear or sorrow, my old gray stallion
No one will take you to the slaughterhouses
I'll be somewhat lonely when you're gone
After I bury you, I'll plant a little tree
A shade for the shadow of the memory of a friend
It will be like seeing you always, like having you with me
In the pampas you know, in your sky and your path
Where the wire ends and the thorn bushes begin

Cursed sad fate, the Argentine horses