Os Três Boiadeiros

Traveling, on the roads
Zé Roia in the front playing the horn calling the cattle
And Chiquinho, always by his side
Distracting the cattle taking care at the crossroads
And us three 'lived', driving the cattle

But one day, in the pasture
There was a thunderstorm, in a sudden movement the cattle burst
On that day, Zé Roia died
He fell from the horse, went into the ditch and the cattle trampled him
It was just me and Chiquinho, driving the cattle

On a rodeo Sunday
Chiquinho drank and didn't obey me, jumped into the arena
In a flash, I shot at the beast
The cow trembled, but in the leap it took, it killed my companion
I was left alone, driving the cattle

Traveling, on the roads
I don't play the horn or see my two companions ahead
Of this trio, only the memory remains
And in every town people ask about the three cowboys
I was left alone, driving the cattle...
I was left alone, driving the cattle...