O Vello e o Sapo

From the distant village, the rooftops smoke
Behind the hills, the sun is setting
Sheep return to the fields as night falls
Nibbling on the grassy edges
An old man, leaning on a walking stick
Crosses the mountain towards the pine forest
He's tired; he stumbled upon a rock on the path
And sat down to catch his breath

-Oh! -he said-, how sad!, how sad I am!
And the toad, listening, replied
-Croak, croak!

The souls are tolling!... On a night like this
My house burned down, my wife died
My crops burned in the yard, and the livestock
The seeds in the ground went to waste
I sold my lands, vineyards, and gardens
And now I wander the world begging
But when I find the doors closed
The dogs chase me out and make me flee

-Sing, toad, sing; you and I are two!
And the sorrowful toad sang:
-Croak, croak!

Alone we both are on this earth
But you find a hole in it and I do not
The winds of the mountains don't bite you
But my insides and bones are gnawed
You, born in the mountains, wait in the mountains
Singing by your side, to see your end
I, born among men, sleeping among beasts
And I do not find death, if I want to die

-They toll already... Let's pray, they say there's a god!
He prays, and the toad sang
-Croak, croak!

The night closed in, and the moon's ray
Begins to shine on the pale peaks
A shiver runs through the trees
And in the distance, the wolf's howl is heard
The poor old man, bent with age
Rose from the rock and picked up his stick
He raised his clenched fist to the sky
And marched towards the bushes, muttering

With eyes lost in the dark expanse
The toad remained singing: croak, croak!

Croak, croak!