Pitoco

Pitoco was a little dog
That I got from my godfather
One Christmas night
He was clever, very active
Had two very lively eyes
Jumping here and there

Early in the morning I would get up
Pitoco would wake me up
With barking, non-stop
He would make such a fuss
Lick my forehead
He even wanted to kiss me

On Sundays, very early
I would grab my little stick
The pellets in the bag
Pitoco would run ahead
Happy and excited
Rolling in the grass

That fun
Of great joy
Even went into the sun

It was the month's Sunday
And Saint Agnes' day
There was a party in the village
My mother, the kids
All dressed up
Went to pray in the chapel
Running off on another road
I went hunting with Pitoco

Today, my conscience hurts
For biting disobedience
Pitoco barked, barked
Showing so much joy
Unable to suspect anything
And I threw a pellet
Making it turn around
A poor cara-cará

Pitoco accompanied me
Sometimes he sat down
And wanted to guess

Suddenly I got cold
I shouted to the Virgin Mary
To save me
A golden lancehead
Hanging on a branch
Was ready to jump!

Pitoco got scared
His eyes wide open
And made a deadly leap
He fought with the snake
Bit it with all his might
But couldn't escape

Pitoco died barking
His lively eyes, so beautiful
Slowly closing
It seemed like he was laughing
At my mischief
For not being able to save him

And in this hollow world
Where friends are few
After Pitoco died
I never had another like him!