I am the son of the interior of the great state mining I was a hero with no medal in the profession of trail Pulling logs of the woods with twelve oxen Pantaneiro I helped clear our Brazilian jungle Without vanity I confess From our immense progress I was one of the pioneers See and the destination changes the life of a man With an evil disease consumes my boiada Just got to drew a bull mongrel lobisomen Being black coal was equal to that I would put this name But shortly after I sold that steer Pros children do not starve Bored with the change decided fortune away And in a big city with his family was living For me, I had to be illiterate subject Working at the slaughterhouse for the bread to win As I was a strong man In quiavalgado cutting Two companions bled Look how our lives change suddenly I cried that sometimes when a cow was sick There I was obliged kill innocent bridle But some day I turned again to its destination The steer the color of coal To die in my hand I was on my way When I saw my cow trail does not contain the emotion My eyes filled d'áqua my tears fell on the floor The bull recognized me and lick my hand Without power to save the life of my steer a pet Although I was asked to account Quit at the same time That thankless profession