Payada do Ano Novo

Happy New Year, folks
Happy New Year, people
It's the reverent way
To start this payada
In this illuminated moment
Of homeland and melody
And the payador shivers
With peasant tradition
In the first sabatina
Of the beginning year

I don't need a ceremony
To sing when I speak
Because I was born on horseback
On the back of an improvisation
I sing until judgment day
In the missionary style
And my galponero verse
Doesn't need any preface
And it enters a palace
As well as a post ranch

The newly born new year
Is out there, making its way
Through fields, through streets
A freshly licked colt
It still doesn't have a nickname
Because it's a bit wild
Hard to tame
And pumping, suspicious
Like a soldier's rifle
In a state of readiness

People from all over the world
Have gathered
To witness the birth
Of this little boy, January
And here, in the countryside
All folks have gathered
And reverently watched
With tenderness, with dedication
To see the ninety-five
That the great night gave birth to

Here in the town, families
Celebrate the New Year
But out in the countryside, where the sound
Is of the wind in the grass
We only keep vigil
When the cowboys gather
In the early hours
A bull's bellow was heard
The male year, instead of crying
Was already born laughing

Being male, it's always like this
It's born frowning
Because it doesn't come for the circus
Of frivolity
This one will be tough
Shouted an Indian from there
This boy will be strong
If he doesn't get bad luck
Belly button cut with a knife
And wrapped in a xiripá

I was gazing at the sky
At the moment of birth
And listening to the wind's cry
In a boisterous te-deum
Then I tipped my hat
Partly to ward off sleep
Memorizing with intonation
Of the timbaúva Indian
That the New Year is like rain
It has no boss or owner

Between a sip and a bitter taste
Leaning against a post
I watched the ugly little boy
But sturdy, nonetheless
Feeling in the wide field
The smell of pasture and incense
In that immense desire
That this new year that is born
Makes people embrace
In the love of peace and good sense

This is a dream, maybe
Of the improvising payador
But a dream comes true
If we wish for it with faith
But for me, who has the church
On the altar of geography
I keep this philosophy
Of a cruiser without a stop
If there was no hope
Everything that is poor would die

But I'll take a journey
Towards the lands of São Luiz
Where I left my roots
Forever embedded
Holy land of the colorado
Tinged with gaucho blood
Land a thousand times beloved
Home of São Sepé
There where the faithful folks
Are born with a stained soul

Crossing the Piratinim
I'll see the stones at the bottom
Holy piece of world
That I left but didn't lose
To return again as a boy
To childhood and adolescence
To see again the beloved land
In a spiritual greenery
My old Natal town
Where I suckled innocence

Then - I'll keep sniffing around
The memories of childhood
Looking for the gentle shade
Where I grew up herding
And soon after crossing
At the orange tree's pace
There where a native midwife
According to the ancient ritual
Buried my belly button
In the root of a fig tree

Then to kill the longing
If longing can be killed
Gazing at the silver moon
Treading in the vastness
The childhood and youth
And the yearnings of this guera Indian
And the flowers of spring
That I unintentionally crushed
And the dreams I didn't tame
In the corner of the abandoned house

But I stop because the emotion
Has made me lose my calm
I have urumbevas in my soul
And a hill in my heart
There's a call of vastness
That touches me from afar
An attraction that is summoned
According to the old laws
I'll dance the kings' dances
In the ranches of Bossoroca!