Cavalo Crioulo

The American plains belonged to no one
A continent waiting for its master
When the ship arrived from beyond
Bringing the European colonizer

Who, to claim the land like a stampede
Armed himself with the courage of his steed
And this Iberian horse finally rose
And the plains were reborn

Then the selection became natural
Only those who adapted survived
To the harsh environment that was wild
And that's how the Creole found its home

And became native to this corner
Like a diamond without the polish
For the skill of the rancher to select
A centuries-old craft

A horse is Creole because it's the standard
Of the gaucho and the modern gauchos too
A dream that keeps growing
In the depths of the heart's winter pasture

On the back of a dappled horse, I feel like a king
And the whole world spins by my rules
For with my foot in the stirrup, reins in hand
My soul lifts off the ground

Then came the marches to prove
A resistance that's unmatched
The exhibition and the bridle to honor
A beautiful and more functional biotype

And the world of the rancher witnessed
A horse that grew larger when mounted
And beyond just being useful, it became
A sport and a leisure

A horse ready for a challenge
That in the sprint joins the zebu hawk
That in a quick turn makes a fuss
That in a bump spreads the dirt on the ground

The love story that never ends
Is the story of the Creole, a living passion
A dream by the reins, the horse at last
Of the ranch hand and the boss!