Tapera

Mud hut fallen
In a corner by the road
For some time it was home
Of the old cowboy drover
It was a stop for carters
And the Indian with a turned shovel

You can see the sign of the fence
The breastplate and the enclosure
And a well-grown umbu tree
Where the siesta was taken
Arm curved on the forehead
Dreaming of the past

I left engraved on the bark
The date marking the era!
I wanted to engrave again
What I left in the backcountry
And remove from the ground
The scar of the abandoned shack

You can see the kite road
Sign of the oven, the fig tree
And the trunk of a gate
That broke in a struggle
The big house fallen
And the frame where the trough was

Sad piece of the homeland
When night comes
And the cattle comes sniffing
Looking for a resting place
Licking the frayed rope
That time is knocking down

When the cowboy passes by
At night with bad weather
Almost always afraid
That there might be a ghost
Throws the poncho over the shoulder
And tightens the reins on the horse