Lá na Campanha

Late afternoon when the day is gone
I release the ties that go together in the struggle
I'm already eager to come to the fire on the ground
There in the shed, a wild corner of my life

I strike the firebrand and prepare a good chimarrão
I look at the dew that comes wetting the grass
Cambona sizzles well leaning on the embers
And I give rein to the dream for myself through the houses

Come to the countryside where the custom is preserved
Like the grass that has a green pattern
A bitter taste that I bring with me as ammunition
A wild addiction rooted in the pampas

I sing the campaign there where the minuano cries
That's where this pawn's feathers live
Carrying a dream under a friendly poncho
Seeking shelter for this poor heart