Tropeiros da Borborema

The whip cracks fiercely
Remembering today is my theme
I want to see the old muleteers of Borborema

They are troops of donkeys coming from the backlands
Carrying their loads of leather and cotton
The slow pace only hunger gallops
As everything tramples the troop's steps
The harsh whip cutting their backs
The hooves injured on the stumbling stones
The thirst and the dust, the sun that sets
Oh, long road that never ends!

The whip cracks fiercely
Remembering today is my theme
I want to see the old muleteers of Borborema

This is how the tired troops walked
And the brave muleteers seeking shelter
In the ranches and watering holes of yesteryears
Leaving earlier than the break of dawn
The wealth of the land that expands so much
And if today it's called Campina Grande
It was great because of them, the pioneers
Oh, troops of donkeys, oh, old muleteers.