Atorando Um Chote

When I find myself chimarreando in a shed
Gathering herds of longing among the embers of the fire
I see far away the memories of the past
Piling up on their own inside my heart

And all this makes me remember my childhood
Of the old and beloved ranch and the rodeo days
I hear a sigh in my country soul
Of a grongueira accordion blocking a chote in the middle

(Look outside and see myself giving a beating
When I was an Indian rider holding on tight
On one of those colts with a tangle on the tail
Strength in the back and granite in the neck)

I still remember the fandangos in the three mouths
Taming the crazy desires when the moon grazes low
And Adão Braga, the famous Adão Papudo
Who seemed like a horned one in a guacho dance

When I go to live under the ground
I want to take my country gear in the coffin
I want my whip and the mane of a strong horse
The straps of my accordion finally in my hands