Lamento de Caboclo
Por um trilho estreito entre samambaia
De chapéu de palha eu ia pra mina
Enchia o corote com a canequinha
De água fresquinha, limpa e cristalina
Depois me assentava no barranco ao lado
E entusiasmado eu ficava olhando
A queda da água rodando o moinho
E no ribeirãozinho o monjolo malhando
À tarde eu deixava o monjolo parado
E o arroz socado levava pra janta
Corria na venda, comprava envelope
Voltava à galope num cavalo pampa
Tomava um traguinho, jantava bastante
Achava importante escrever pros parentes
Contando que a roça estava limpinha
E que ninguém tinha ficado doente
Mas minha pobreza foi contaminando
E aos poucos tirando esta felicidade
Embora a roça, era o berço sagrado
Me vi obrigado a mudar pra cidade
Passei a comer arroz de pacote
Troquei o corote por filtro esmaltado
Nem carta escrevo, pois vivo sozinho
Só vejo moinho no supermercado
Se vejo monjolo, é movido a motores
Só em casas de flores vejo samambaia
Mas fico orgulhoso por ver margaridas
Limpando avenidas de chapéu de palha
A minha saudade que tenho guardada
Será revelada se um dia eu voltar
Então pedirei perdão ao presente
Pra eternamente na roça eu ficar
Caboclo's Lament
Through a narrow trail among ferns
With a straw hat, I went to the mine
Filled the flask with the little mug
With fresh, clean, and crystalline water
Then I sat on the slope beside
And excited, I stayed watching
The waterfall turning the mill
And in the little stream, the pestle pounding
In the afternoon, I left the pestle still
And the pounded rice I took for dinner
I ran to the store, bought an envelope
Returned galloping on a pinto horse
Took a sip, had a hearty dinner
Thought it was important to write to my relatives
Telling them the farm was clean
And no one had fallen ill
But my poverty was spreading
And slowly taking away this happiness
Although the farm, it was the sacred cradle
I found myself forced to move to the city
Started eating packaged rice
Exchanged the flask for an enameled filter
I don't even write letters, as I live alone
I only see mills in the supermarket
If I see a pestle, it's powered by engines
Only in flower shops I see ferns
But I'm proud to see daisies
Cleaning avenues with straw hats
The longing I have kept
Will be revealed if one day I return
Then I will ask forgiveness from the present
To forever stay in the farm
Escrita por: Carlos Cezar / Morgado