Ramiro Sierra

The snow was falling, the wines were freezing
On the cliff of the strawberry tree, some guns were pointing
Only the snow feathers were clouding those sights

A bull was heard bellowing, coming with the herd
And the hooves of the horse, of the man who was herding them
Ramiro left the beast, while he surrounded the cliff
The horse was a little Creole, but very well rented
That's why without its rider, it knew how to round up the cattle
Ramiro was proud of his brindle and white saddle

Ramiro Sierra told them, no one is deceived here
I only came to collect, the death of my friend
And to gather the cattle, that the cowards stole

There were six hundred steers, also dairy cattle
That's why those damn rustlers coveted them
But they didn't know that Ramiro was going to skin them

Caliber 223, how beautifully it crowed
The moans were confused with the cows' bellowing
And the echoes of the mountain, this bullet recorded

Goodbye brindle and white saddle, you will always be the first
Don Pablo Chávez has died, that rich rancher
I hope that up in heaven, you keep branding calves