A Mula do Falecido Palmeira

For a top-notch mule, it had to be my Tostada
The mule knew me even by my footsteps
It had a long fringe, with trimmed tail and mane
Once won a fig for headbutting at a party

I rejected three mules for Tostada
There was a Picassa mule with all four hooves shod
There was a Rosilha mule and a Golden Red one
And I told the owner: I didn't like the bunch!

Those who hear me tell the story hardly believe and laugh
But the mule deserved it for being well-marked
It had a star on its forehead, a natural mark
It looked like the morning star signaling dawn

Now, when I lay down, I can't sleep, remembering the poor thing
I'll tell you how it went, my mule was stolen
I grabbed my gun with well-oiled bullets
I left my ranch and went looking for Tostada

I met the thief just in time on the road
He was coming on a skinny and poorly saddled mule
The mule recognized me, stood still
By the star, I knew it was my Tostada

The thief, being cautious, made the first move
We drew our guns together and bullets were exchanged
I hit him with one bullet, and another hit Tostada
And my poor mule met a sad end on the road