Gauderiada

When I go out
To lose sight in a drizzle
Magazine cover, there I go
Enjoying life in the backlands
Of Rincão do Batista

I come from afar on a saddle horse
One with a good bridle, another with a good bit
With a halter on the hip, I cross at Lagoa Branca
And at Buracal, I dismount

Under this clear sky
That I mess up my hair
Next to the horsemen!
And don't ask me for anything else
I have the mare saddled
For my gaucho crew
And the spur's tone kind of flourishing
In B flat!
Rhyming with the tone of the old Todeschini accordion
That embellished the dance until sunrise

From Sobrado... It's three leagues to São Leandro
No matter the time, it's getting ready
With poncho in the saddlebag, prepared sustenance
Until Passo do Blanco

Whistling, I seek the path of this trail
Spotting in the distance the Corunilha
Crossing these ravines in Cota's dance
I loosen the saddle