Retemperado a Gaitaço

I've already prepared for a deep-rooted xixo
Where the garrão comes beaten from the cob
With brilliantine teasing the locks
Feathers are tamed and some refuse is set apart
With brilliantine teasing the locks
Feathers are tamed and some refuse is set apart

On a Sunday, I like a dry badana
Not wanting a desflenca tirador
Who sleeps early in the saddle of longing
Sees his desire go away like a flower
Who sleeps early in the saddle of longing
Sees his desire go away like a flower

In a hoofbeat that breaks horseshoes
I loosen the frame trembling in a lock
And the china I bring sinxada close to my chest
Old gesture reinvigorated by the gaitaço
And the china I bring sinxada close to my chest
Old gesture reinvigorated by the gaitaço

I like a china with blonde or brunette braids
Freste torena going on about a wool
There's not an Indian who doesn't flatter the hair
To be the seasoning in the comfort of mornings
There's not an Indian who doesn't flatter the hair
To be the seasoning in the comfort of mornings

That's why today I'm excusing myself from the room
With this pala of mine, a surungo tracker
If there's a fandango, he finds it by the smell
And he goes slyly, even if it's at the end of the world
If there's a fandango, he finds it by the smell
And he goes slyly, even if it's at the end of the world

In a hoofbeat that breaks horseshoes
I loosen the frame trembling in a lock
And the china I bring sinxada close to my chest
Old gesture reinvigorated by the gaitaço
And the china I bring sinxada close to my chest
Old gesture reinvigorated by the gaitaço

In a hoofbeat that breaks horseshoes
I loosen the frame trembling in a lock
And the china I bring sinxada close to my chest
Old gesture reinvigorated by the gaitaço
And the china I bring sinxada close to my chest
Old gesture reinvigorated by the gaitaço