Jugando De Mensual

He could never be someone
He was just a monthly
And by instinct he used to enter
Grabbing for the corners
And he was caught alone in silence

Sometimes he would mix
But sometimes not
When those who chatted
Were men from the countryside

From the outside they talk about work things
The shearing, the sheepfold, or other nothings
Of those nothings that abound in the plain

Plumb a post
Do a job
Sharpen the day
Throwing dirt with the shovel
From an ox to an Australian

Pour kerosene on a tourniquet
Or help cinch another Christian

Sometimes refueling
Others whitewashing
Grinding corn for the chickens
Cutting weeds

Give an oiling to the mills
Washing the tractors or fencing
Nothing more that the plain has
To spend time playing

You would have to spend a month naming things
That a monthly does that does nothing

Because, since you're going to go check on the cows
There's a broken post near the entrance
It's better to change it today
Because tomorrow
You have to change the pens
And if it doesn't rain, you have to fence the field
And it's full of mallow and tough grass

He could never be something, He was just a monthly
And that's being nothing

Since you're here, don't you dare to face
A horse without spurs or reins in case you're around

If you put the leathers on him
I promise you that you'll
Get him ready for a national holiday

Because in six months they give vacations
And the boys come to the ranch

And I would like the little one to ride him
He's the one studying veterinary medicine
And I wouldn't want one of those
To fall and be pitiful

Better you ride him, you're tougher and
You don't lack tricks for these brutes

And there goes Mr. Monthly stepping on frost
With his blue, worn-out feet
With his little toe exerting force
Like tightening the espadrille

He helps with the shearing and not for show
He makes notches on a stick to count them
Just like in the harvest he'll be in everything
Praying for the hectares to yield

One of these days they'll throw him some money
Because being a monthly there's no complaint
If the boss does well, he might loosen up
If he says it went bad, nothing happens

When he's no longer useful, he'll return to the town
And some lawyer will give him a little something
That there's nothing to do if there was no contribution
And by law he won't have a pension

How come he never thought of doing paperwork
That he had been clumsy
That it's not the right time
If something happens
I'll let you know, Look
Maybe a decree came out
And that's it

One day he'll walk like so many others
Begging for support for his bones
For having lived like a dog
Playing monthly, just for that