De Vida e Tempo
Quando tapeio o meu sombreiro sobre a nuca
O coração me cutuca, bate forte igual cincerro
Sinto que o sangue pulsa mais forte nas veias
Parece que me arrodeia o assombro de Martin Fierro
Me criei solto, correndo pelo banhado
Gritando forte com o gado, nos dias de lida bruta
No batoví, extraviei sonhos e mágoas
Que se olvidaram com as águas, das cheias do reculuta
(Cortei caminhos em culatras e fiadores
Erguendo penas e amores, num grito largo de venha
Rondei recuerdos em noites de calmarias
Aclimatando invernias na minha pampa surenha)
Trago nos tentos poncho emalado e saudade
De um tempo que foi verdade e a cada aurora rebrota
A vida passa e a mala suerte se adoça
Depois que a espora faz mossa no contra forte da bota
Nasci num rancho, quinchado de Santa Fé
Sou de junco e aguapé, caraguatá e japecanga
Sou do Rio Grande, meu pago retrata a estampa
De touro que afia a guampa nos cacurutos da sanga
Of Life and Time
When I tip my hat over my neck
My heart pokes me, beats hard like a bell
I feel the blood pulsing stronger in my veins
It seems that the shadow of Martin Fierro surrounds me
I grew up free, running through the marsh
Yelling loudly with the cattle, in the days of rough work
In the batoví, I lost dreams and sorrows
That were forgotten with the waters, from the reculuta floods
(I cut paths in culatras and fiadores
Raising feathers and loves, in a wide cry of come
I roamed memories on calm nights
Acclimating winters in my southern pampa)
I carry in my belongings a wrapped poncho and longing
From a time that was true and reblooms with each dawn
Life goes by and bad luck softens
After the spur leaves a mark on the boot's counter
I was born in a ranch, thatched from Santa Fé
I am of reed and water hyacinth, caraguatá and japecanga
I am from Rio Grande, my homeland portrays the image
Of a bull that sharpens its horn in the creek's hollows
Escrita por: Edilberto Bergamo / Rogerio Villagran