Pra Minha Amada

I bring, by the bridle, a Moorish woman, sister of the Moor I saddle
On a piece of leather, at the tail, a broom knot
And, in the sway of the jolt, she sets the pace of the lance
And the jingle of the spurs making the gaze sonorous
I know that, in the ranch by the road, there's a flower at the gate
I take this Moorish woman to her, a gift for my beloved

I saw, in the eyes of the beauty, when I fixed my gaze
That one day, I'll leave the road to have peace and affection
I raise a neighboring ranch there in the Moraes' Corner
Who could want more having this flower and the little boy

Who is from the countryside and road
And has a dark dream
That splashed with dew
The eyes of my beloved

For a long time, this flower has filled the most tender dreams
Of being one in the winters, in the fullness of love
And I ask our Lord to grant me this grace
And may this dark-haired woman make me the happiest of horse tamers

I saw, in the eyes of the beauty, when I fixed my gaze
That one day, I'll leave the road to have peace and affection
I raise a neighboring ranch there in the Moraes' Corner
Who could want more having this flower and the little boy