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Cuando
salimos pa’ Kiansis
con una grande partida,
¡ah qué camino tan largo!
no contaba con la vida.
Nos decía el caporal,
como queriendo llorar:
–Allá va la novillada,
no me la dejen pasar. –
¡Ah, qué camino tan bueno!
todo se le iba en corer,
¡y, ah, que fuerte aguacero!
no contaba yo en volver.
Unos pedían un cigatto,
otros pedían que comer,
y el caporal nos decía:
–Sea por Dios, qué hemos de hacer.–
En el charco de Palomas
se cortó un novillo bragado,
y el caporal lo lazó
en su caballo melado.
Avísenle al caporal
que un vaquero se mató,
en las trancas del corral
nomás la cuera dejó.
Llegamos al Río Salado
y nos tiramos a nado,
decía un americano:
–Esos hombres ya se ahogaron.–
Puese qué pensaría ese hombre
que venimos a esp’rimentar,
si somos del Río Grande,
de los buenos pa’ nadar.
Y le dimos vista a Kiansis,
y nos dice el caporal:
–Ora sí somos de la vida,
ya vamos a hacer corral.–
De vuelta en San Antonio
compramos buenos sombreros,
y aquí se acaban cantando
versos de los aventureros.
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When
we left for Kansas
with a great herd of cattle,
ah, what a long trail it was!
I was not sure I would survive.
The caporal would tell us,
as if he was going to cry,
“Watch out for that herd of steers;
don’t let them get past you.”
Ah, what a good horse I had!
He did nothing but gallop.
and, ah, what a violent cloudburst!
I was not sure I would come back.
Some of us asked for cigarettes,
others wanted something to eat;
and the caporal would tell us,
“So be it, it can’t be helped.”
By the pond at Palomas
a vicious steer left the herd,
and the caporal lassoed it
on his honey-colored horse.
Go tell the caporal
that a vaquero has been killed;
all he left was his leather jacket
hanging on the rails of the corral.
We got to the Salado River,
and we swam our horses across;
an American was saying,
“Those men are as good as drowned.”
I wonder what the man thought,
that we came to learn, perhaps;
Why, we’re from the Rio Grande,
where the good swimmers are from.
And then Kansas came in sight,
and the caporal tells us,
“We have finally made it,
we’ll soon have them in the corral.”
Back again in San Antonio,
we all bought ourselves good hats,
and this is the end of the singing
of the stanzas about the trail drivers.
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