Sertão de Aço

La la la ra ra
If you could see
What my backlands are like
Then you would say
That I speak with reason

Crops there
Only grow with the smell of rain
They have resilience
Corn and beans
With a rain
Every month
Things grow
And the crops there endure
Thirty days of summer
Tra la la la ai...

There are years there
Where the winter is varied
Profit and shipment
In one place and not in another
The countryman still doesn't despair
With courage still waits
For the cotton harvest
When there's a harvest
It's not even worth mentioning
My God
And with so much samba there is

The countryman
Quickly forgets the bad times
Dances without feeling tired
The next day
Attends to his duties
I say for this reason
That my backlands are made of steel