Campo e fé

It's tough when a 'murco' gets angry
Puts its paws in the 'cangaia' and hides its face opening a burrow
It seems like the ground changes, goes to the 'hiba' of the hat and we have the impression of walking on the sky
I go in the mouth of a 'maula', I ride and can't find the taming
A tiger escaped from the cage and left hitchhiking
Then remains a wild rein, the sharp tooth of the spur
A spot of clean field and faith in our lady

It's tough when a bull rebels
Turns its head to the grove and goes out crushing grass
The sky of Rio Grande thunders, the ground trembles in a rush
And the pampa homeland boils in the blood when the hair stands on end
That's when a twelve-braça rope is loosened without fear
And the breed of a rider is known
Cross the trail...
Cross the trail and push the tent
In the temple of the field outside, I ask for the blessing for this troop to God and our lady

Our lady, our holy patroness
Protect the gaucho land in these twists of life
I carry you in the top of this hat because nothing is more powerful than the faith of a countryside Indian