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Ramiro Sierra

Los Tigres del Norte

Ramiro Sierra

La nieve estaba cayendo, los pinos se congelaban
En el risco del madroño, unas armas apuntaban
Solo las plumas de nieve, aquellas miras nublaban

Se oyó mugir un novillo, que venia con la manada
Y los cascos del caballo, del señor que las arriaba
Ramiro dejó la bestia, mientras el risco rodeaba
El caballo era un criollito, pero muy bien arrendado
Por eso sin su jinete, supo rialar el ganado
Ramiro estaba orgulloso, de su retinto dosalbo

Les dijo Ramiro Sierra, aquí no se engaña a nadie
Yo solo vine a cobrarles, la muerte de mi compadre
Y a recoger el ganado, que le robaron cobardes

Eran seiscientos novillos, también ganado lechero
Por eso lo codiciaban, esos malditos cuatreros
Más no sabían que Ramiro, les iba a rajar el cuero

Calibre 223, qué bonito cacareaba
Se confundían los quejidos, con el mugir de las vacas
Y los ecos de la sierra, esta bala la grababa

Adiós retinto dosalbo, siempre serás el primero
Ya murió Don Pablo Chávez, aquel rico ganadero
Ojalá que allá en el cielo, sigas herrando becerros

Ramiro Sierra

The snow was falling, the pines were freezing
On the cliff of the strawberry tree, some weapons were pointed
Only the snow feathers clouded those sights

A bull was heard bellowing, coming with the herd
And the hooves of the horse, of the man who drove them
Ramiro left the beast, while the cliff surrounded
The horse was a Creole, but very well rented
That's why, without his rider, he knew how to herd the cattle
Ramiro was proud of his red two-white

Ramiro Sierra told them, no one is fooled here
I just came to collect from you, the death of my friend
And to gather the cattle, which were stolen by cowards

There were six hundred steers, also dairy cattle
That's why those damn rustlers coveted him
But they didn't know that Ramiro was going to rip their skin open

Caliber 223, how nice it cackled
The moans were mixed with the mooing of the cows
And the echoes of the saw, this bullet recorded it

Goodbye, two-white, you will always be the first
Don Pablo Chávez, that rich cattle rancher, has already died
I hope that up there in heaven you continue to shoe calves

Escrita por: Paulino Vargas