Ramiro Sierra

Ramiro Sierra

Ramiro Sierra

The snow was falling, the pines were freezingLa nieve estaba cayendo, los pinos se congelaban
On the cliff of the strawberry tree, some weapons were pointedEn el risco del madroño, unas armas apuntaban
Only the snow feathers clouded those sightsSolo las plumas de nieve, aquellas miras nublaban

A bull was heard bellowing, coming with the herdSe oyó mugir un novillo, que venia con la manada
And the hooves of the horse, of the man who drove themY los cascos del caballo, del señor que las arriaba
Ramiro left the beast, while the cliff surroundedRamiro dejó la bestia, mientras el risco rodeaba
The horse was a Creole, but very well rentedEl caballo era un criollito, pero muy bien arrendado
That's why, without his rider, he knew how to herd the cattlePor eso sin su jinete, supo rialar el ganado
Ramiro was proud of his red two-whiteRamiro estaba orgulloso, de su retinto dosalbo

Ramiro Sierra told them, no one is fooled hereLes dijo Ramiro Sierra, aquí no se engaña a nadie
I just came to collect from you, the death of my friendYo solo vine a cobrarles, la muerte de mi compadre
And to gather the cattle, which were stolen by cowardsY a recoger el ganado, que le robaron cobardes

There were six hundred steers, also dairy cattleEran seiscientos novillos, también ganado lechero
That's why those damn rustlers coveted himPor eso lo codiciaban, esos malditos cuatreros
But they didn't know that Ramiro was going to rip their skin openMás no sabían que Ramiro, les iba a rajar el cuero

Caliber 223, how nice it cackledCalibre 223, qué bonito cacareaba
The moans were mixed with the mooing of the cowsSe confundían los quejidos, con el mugir de las vacas
And the echoes of the saw, this bullet recorded itY los ecos de la sierra, esta bala la grababa

Goodbye, two-white, you will always be the firstAdiós retinto dosalbo, siempre serás el primero
Don Pablo Chávez, that rich cattle rancher, has already diedYa murió Don Pablo Chávez, aquel rico ganadero
I hope that up there in heaven you continue to shoe calvesOjalá que allá en el cielo, sigas herrando becerros