Текст и перевод песни Mano Lima - Milonga Pra Dom Mulato

Milonga Pra Dom Mulato

Sempre que as cordas dedilho
Para empessar um relato
Me lembro de Dom Mulato

Puro cerne de espinilho
Uma estampa de caldilho
Sábio de tanto andejar

E uma luz a iluminar
Sua vida nos rigores
Poeira de mil corredores
Quero ali te escovar

E assim seguia tropeando
Cruzando num pampa e noutro
Com botas, garrão de potro
E a chilena tilintando

E quando ia decambando
Rompendo a noite ao seguir
Com um palheiro a luzir

Mascando léguas ao tranquito
Era um centauro solito
Bombeando a pátria a dormir

Ser tropeiro era destino
Que trouxe como um sinal
Correr boi num banhadal
Deste Rio Grande teatino

Numa parte era latino
Com aquele pala arreiudo
Encostava seu lubulo

E dando de mão na cola
Ia pechando pachola
Nas paletas de um turuno

Nas rondas dos descampados
Rondava luas vaqueana
Cantava toadas pampeana
De cima do seu bragado

Gauchão e entonado
Sempre proseando com a tropa
Quando a pratica se ensopa

Na sua vivência campeira
Ronda uma tropa ligeira
Não é que qualquer oropa

E quase no fim da vida
O tempo envelhece tudo
Foi domando curnilhudo

Pingaços pra toda lida
Com maestria e medida
Seguiu culpando sua fé

E num pingo pangaré
Ultimo olhar deste lado
Morreu só e abandonado
Na vila do M'Bororé

Com este tento eu arremato
Esta presilha altaneira
Uma milonga campeira
Chego ao fim do meu relato

E assim cantei Dom Mulato
Sem pedir aplauso ou palma
E na sua tumba calma

Joelho esta preçe crua
Uma saudade charrua
Engarupada na alma

Milonga for Dom Mulato

Whenever I pluck the strings
To begin a tale
I am reminded of Dom Mulato

Pure essence of blackthorn
A figure of wisdom
Wise from so much wandering

And a light to illuminate
His life in the rigors
Dust of a thousand corridors
I want to pay my respects to you here

And so he continued on horseback
Crossing one pampa after another
With boots, a horse's foot
And his spurs jingling

And when he was about to fall
Breaking through the night to continue
With a haystack to light his way

Chewing on miles at a leisurely pace
He was a solitary centaur
Rocking the sleeping homeland

Being a drover was his destiny
That he carried like a sign
Running cattle in a swamp
Of this Rio Grande theatre

In one part he was Latin
With that gaucho hat tilted
He would lean on his stirrup

And with his hand on his reins
He would close the circle
On the shoulders of a wild horse

In the rounds of the open country
He would circle the moon like a gaucho
He would sing pampa songs
From atop his dappled horse

Gaucho and spirited
Always chatting with the herd
When the talk gets wet

In his gaucho experience
A light troop roams
It is not just any mob

And almost at the end of his life
Time ages everything
He was taming stubborn horses

Horses for every task
With mastery and measure
He went on blaming his faith

And on a grey nag
Last look from this side
He died alone and abandoned
In the village of M'Bororé

With this song I wrap up
This proud clasp
A gaucho milonga
I come to the end of my tale

And so I sang Dom Mulato
Without asking for applause or praise
And on his quiet tomb

This raw prayer kneels
A gaucho longing
Roped in my soul