Tropeiro Velho

Sitting by the fire
Feeling the weight of age
So sad the old drover
Almost dead from missing
Eighty years on his back
Always dealt with cattle
But never in his travels
Left a steer on the road
Now he can't anymore
His old, tired body
Sometimes gets confused
Starts yelling at the cattle
Drive, cattle, drive!
Gets scared and regains his senses
Again falls silent
This eighty-year-old
Means a lot to me
Listen to my rhymed verse

Old drover with so much sadness
Hides his face under the hat's brim
Eyes fixed on the ground fire
Looks at the smoke rising to the sky
Slaps your hat on your forehead
Forget your eighty years
Notice the fields, here comes the cattle
On the road shouting the drover
Old drover doesn't lift his eyes
No more strength, it's the weight of age
Downcast by the fire
He's dying from so much missing

Old drover, I'm a young lad
I'll make you a proposal now
Give me your poncho, whip, and hat
Baggy pants and boots and a pair of spurs
Give me the horse and full gear
I'll continue in your place trotting
Old drover lifted his eyes
Sitting, he hugged me crying
Kissed my face and closed his eyes
Gave everything and fell dead
Died happy because I'll continue
The cattle drives he loved so much

I buried him by the roadside
To see the herd passing by and leaving
Read on the cross, you'll know
Old drover was my own father
Goodbye, my father, drover of the pampas
Your thoughts will fulfill your son
I'm doing what you wanted
Yelling at the cattle on the saddle
Old drover now rests in peace
I'm doing what he did
The years pass, I also grow old
Waiting for my turn to come