No Invernadão Das Poliangas

It was me who shouted loudly on the edge of the marsh
And I came herding the cattle along the boundary fence
The day was breaking and I on horseback
I know that the loss of this momentum is missed by those in need

The day brightens, in the shout that strengthens the throat
Of the ranch hand who sought the back corners
Even the dew of the grasses rises
And the wandering sun leaves the thicket and comes into the world

I follow the stream and cross at a moderate pace
I contemplate the calm of the morning that unfolds
A bull bellows just below the salt shaker
As if it were the owner of the big winter of the poleangas

I extend my gaze and survey from end to end
I follow quietly as the work unfolds
I put the horse in a pen that still limps
Quietly grazing on the edge of the pond
I put the horse in a pen that still limps
Quietly grazing on the edge of the pond

That's why I open my chest and sway my horse
And I take offense if anyone stays in the grasses
I'm a ranch hand, I respect the way
Where the rules that the shout of bamo delivers are faced

I'm a field hand, I know the rhythm well
And I don't hesitate when the work gets tough
It's no joke dealing with breeding cattle
Where the cowboy heals the wounds and marks

But for this job I was born and I don't back down
Because I believe this is my destiny
And to walk in the world pushing some cattle
And taking advantage of anyone acting smart

I know that my world is summed up in this longing
That reveals itself when the morning unfolds
But I feel free like the bellow of the bull
That echoes far in the big winter of the poleangas