Rebeldia

I raised my leg in a "veinous" rush
that when he caught me, his body almost pulled me away.
But in my own way, I rode with a visor thrown on,
and when I wake up in the morning, not even the devil attacks me.
With hard jaws, itchiness and maneuverability, the estancias are populated,
in the shortage of tamer.
Good troops, wealth of blood and race,
but where the tame does not pass, the drop loses its value.

This is my fate,
of dealing with rebellion.
Passing on the ill-tamed,
taking away the fuss and mania.

(There in the hose it's already starting to get ugly,
when I invite the bragada to dance in my "arreio".
It's just another one, one that was badly "started",
and after being tamed, it renounces the staff and the bridle.)

This bragada, which pumped me to spur,
He trotted with me on his back, wanting to pull out a log.
I took the body, at the exit of the gate,
and I raised his bedstead, on a pitch across the field.
I closed my eyes, and I no longer saw the neck,
It seemed to me that I was "riding" a lump.
Don't let your leg fall apart, let it fall apart,
even if I stay in the "espinhaço", clinking the spur on the bone.

This is my fate,
of dealing with rebellion.
Passing on the ill-tamed,
taking away the fuss and mania.