|Guard, guide. Feed.
Object of desire for the nostalgic.
A perfect past, a reality nonsense.
It crosses a field grown too much.
Winter pastures lacking cattle that had their sustenance in them.
Come out to meet us. In the open it was said.
Guardian oblivious to inclement weather.
Guide to meager herds today.
Color of wind, rain and sun.
Soon you will be remembered in a ninot.
Today you have saved yourself from burning.
Tomorrow possibly "carabero", of the idleness.