Quando Sopra o Minuano
José Claudio Machado
When the Minuano Blows
Minuano is blowing, whistling tonight
Trooping its ghosts, trooping
And the souls pass by riding on horseback
Ghosts of the past in the rush of traditions
Rise up gaucho, everyone needs to walk
Minuano is calling, Rio Grande needs to listen
Come fly with me with the minuano
In the ride of these tough-haired souls
In this rush where generations unite
Where the old traditions guide the future
And the minuano runs wildly
That the cold itself warms the heart of people
And the whole heart opens and expands
So that in our blood enters
The very blood of Rio Grande
