Madrugada Llanera

On the branch of a saman tree
the roosters search for the day
and in the distance crosses
the song of the nightjar.

The moon is hiding,
the moon is fading away
and a dog is barking at it
and a dog is following it.

Where is my dark mare
and my saddle,
my hat, my spurs
and my lasso.

The cowherd's verse
singing to the herd
throbs in the dawn
from the cattle pen to the corral.