Saco de Estopa

In a burlap bag tied with imbira
What I have kept is my passion
An old boot, a golden hat
Leather sheath and an old machete

I have a pair of spurs, a saddle and a lasso
A steel dagger, armadillo tail
I have a still perfect gun belt
Elaborate and made only of raw leather

From the broken lantern only the wick remains
To remember the cold I also kept
A white sheepskin that lost its fur
Despite the care I took

Also a long straw pipe
How many mosquitoes I scared away with it
A left stirrup that I keep carefully
Because the right one I broke on the fence

The already yellowed receipt
From the first saddle I bought myself
In Soledade, at Casa da Cinta
I paid 230 right away

Also the crumpled receipt
The first salary I earned
It's my gear in a tied bag
In a corner I always kept

For me it represents a beautiful past
The cattle work that I always liked
That's how I faced this hard work
I made my future without breaking the law

The bag is a relic with my gear
I don't sell it and I don't let anyone touch it
In life's struggles I held the bat
And the gold in the bag is the memory