Bem na Porteira

Circumstantial limits
For those who live in Moerão
On a raw earth ranch
A meter or so above the ground

A couple of clay Johns
With patience, beak and wing
Chose well at the gate
To build your dream home

The clay after the rain
It was enough for the whole house
Good earth hose
Beaten with the cavalcade

The weather made clear days
And the construction was even
Two weeks and the ranch
It went from the foundation to the tiles

The male took songs
For the tone of the fences
In the sheet music of the fence
Announced the welcome

Every September morning
A new song woke up
When the feathered female
Above the ranch he sang

Door to the sun
Put your face in trouble
And a bird song
Calling the bars of the day

Because life has meanings
Where reason never tires
To be reborn every day
Where there is hope

But it went well with the rain
That a crusading troop
He pressed himself tightly against the gate
Wanting to hit the road

And the grinder, in a crash
Lost tone and reason
And knocked down the ranchinho
From earth and nest to the ground

And the troop crossed onwards
Without repairing what he did
Hoof and footfall fell
Two dreams at once

And the barreiro rested
In the other mill by the gate
It seemed like he was looking for
In the distance your companion

It was difficult, but he sang again
With wings and an open beak
When the couple met
In a chinaberry tree nearby

To build a new ranch
In the same waiting cycle
Far from the crossing of troops
Next spring