Caboclo Roceiro

Countryman from the Fields, from the Northern plains
Who lives without luck, without land and without home
Your misfortune is sad that I sing
If I hear my cry, I start to cry

No one offers you a happy relief
You are rough and captive, you have no freedom
The farm is your world and also your school
Your arm is the spring that moves the city

At night you live in your hut
During the day in the fields with a hoe in hand
Thinking that God is a vengeful father
You don't see the reason for your oppression

You think, friend, that the life you lead
Of pain and darkness under the cross
And the constant cries, like signs and swords
Are punishments sent by our Jesus

You are in this life the faithful penitent
A poor innocent in the dock
Countryman, do not keep this belief with you
Your sentence does not come from heaven

The divine master who is profoundly wise
Does not make your unhappy burden in this world
Your misfortunes with your disorder
Do not arise from the orders of the eternal judge

The moon fades without hindrance
The sun never denied you its shine
But the ungrateful, with hatred and war
Took away the land that God gave you

At night you live in your hut
During the day in the fields, with a hoe in hand
Countryman from the fields, without home, without shelter
You are my friend, you are my brother