Pa' Usted

For you, sir
For you who knows so much
For you who when
Arrives at a party
Of those parties
Glorious of my land
Or simply
A rodeo they call
And that rodeo sir
Has nothing
Because the one who knows
Calls it a ride

For you, for you
And for many who
To test a gaucho
Want to do it
At the throw of a lasso
Or at the skill
Of a tricky horse
Accustomed to
The man driving stakes

To you I want
To clarify your gaze
I'm just going to tell you
About things I know
Of what they have told me
I won't say anything

So you see that I'm not
Leaving the furrow
To avoid the confusion
And the deceit

And I'm going to tell you
About times of aura
Not those times
That my grandfather must have gone through

There in my homeland
There is the one who feels the herd
And there is the one who ropes
And the one who drives
And the one who brands
And the one who in a duel
Leaves his last name
And the one with reins
Weaves a hope

People that time
Will not be able to erase
Because they are men
Pillars of my homeland

But in my homeland
In my homeland as well
There is the one who fences
And without knowing
Maybe how to ride a cart
Mounts the shovel blunt
The crowbar, makes maneas
California and bleeds
That one, is also a gaucho, mate

There is also the man
Who making shreds
Goes chesting
A troop of firewood

Novillada of piquillin caldenes
With a horse they call
Axe!, that one
Is also a gaucho, mate

And there are others who endure tricks
And in the tuse of a well-cut melga
Leave marks with seed letters
In the nights of cold tractor
Those, those are also gauchos, mate

And there is the one who cuts the weeds
And the one who milks, and the one who shears
And the one who heals, and the one who bathes

The one who at the forge and anvil
Nourishes the nerve
The one who loves
The one who learns, the one who teaches

By trade, by trade
There are thousands to name
And they all go intertwined
With gaucho spirit

Don't try to find differences
Unify, it's a law of patriotism

That's why
I want you to understand
Certain things
Sometimes they hurt fiercely
I don't rope
But I've driven the plow
And I'm gaucho all the same
As the one who rides

And know sir
That I don't say what I say
Because I'm a master
Or because I have extra knowledge

The same is gaucho
The one who points the land
As the one who makes
A book with gaucho conscience

Clean pride of being Argentine
Macho pride of honor and decency

That's why sir
To know you lack knowing
What prudence is
And to learn sir
You have more than enough if you have shame