Da Templa Antiga
Baitaca
From the Old Temple
I carry in my soul the mark of our rusticity
I have culture and civism, that's why I raise my voice
I am a man from the missions and I don't stray from traditions
But I bring the smell of the pasture in the rustic verses I sing
I unraveled my memory and opened the gate of my heart
I am rustic and don't use adornments, I wasn't born to be decorated
Just a stray cowboy along the paths of the pampas
Looking at my figure, seeing the past
Most want to play the modern
I am a tough guy from the countryside
I follow the cowboy way and don't change
I don't keep score and let it be
I smoke a pipe and dance a RAP
And I field a sharp verse
I sing with an open heart
For my beloved Rio Grande
I even think I was born near a campfire
I unfold the life of a cowboy
Like a game of truco
And my verses are rougher
Than horse slobber
Hat pulled down over my worn-out baggy pants
I get up early to have my mate
I am from the old temple and a pillar of the new times
My verse serves as an example for the future generation
I live stumbling upon the hope of this southern pampa
Singing verse is my destiny and my voice doesn't end
For me not to sing about my land
It's just that my tongue gets twisted
Or maybe I die in need
In a skirmish of war.