Without Hero Medal

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