Bagual Picaço

Once I adjusted myself at Seu Ponciano's ranch
To tame a wild stallion that was almost five years old
Creole from the burnt lands bordering the tough soil
This famous wild stallion, a horse of beautiful figure

He was the lord of the hills without ever having seen the lasso
His bed was the grass, the famous wild stallion
He brought along with the herd from the capororóca pasture
Snorting, bucking, and kicking in the corral

And upon arriving at the pen, I let the dust settle
While the cheerful cowboys watched him while drinking mate
Discussions and laughter in front of the shed
Jokes and tricks from the taming tasks

With skill, I threw the lasso, feeling the danger
Through kicks and blows, I passed as a friendly foot
I widened the straps of the back of that infamous stallion
Bent like a gourd that hits the wire fence

I raised my leg securely on the silver Saint Anthony
He quickly hid his head between his two legs
He started bellowing and bucking, only hearing the creaking of the saddle
We crossed meadows, ravines, and hills, marking the pastures

We spent hours lost towards the canyon
Sometimes close to the clouds, other times close to the ground
Unraveling the devilish mature stallion
It almost seemed like a mandate tearing up the ground

The king of the hills surrendered and responds to any command
He became good with the saddle and very gentle with the rider